


Of Conquest and Faith

by NohrianScum (OrderOfRevan)



Series: Fire Emblem If 'Canonverse' Stories [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Artistic Liberties, F/M, Nohr | Conquest Route, Novelization, Pseudo-Incest, Two Blocks of Incest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-19 06:28:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14868500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrderOfRevan/pseuds/NohrianScum
Summary: Corrin belonged to two worlds, which left her with only a single painful reality.Either she give up the loving family she'd never known, the family she was stolen from, the people who had treated her with compassion and wished for her freedom...Or she give up the family she had forged through bonds of trial, the people who accepted her as their own in spite of all the risks entailed, and abandon the country that needed her.In the end, there was only ever one obvious choice.





	1. The Visitor

**Author's Note:**

> I'll be including a brief changelong here so you can get an idea of some of the things I'm changing around/keeping in order to give this story a bit more structure and oomph. The ones in this chapter are general changes about certain characters overall, so they're the only ones I'll list. 
> 
> *Custom Corrin has been used, so a canon personality does not apply  
> * Jakob's characterization is based heavily on Joker, though he speaks much more like Jakob.  
> *Xander is Xander in name only and is otherwise written and characterized like Marx, so if he seems different to you, that's why. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Please let me know what you think!

**The Dusk Dragon’s Song**

 

_Dark claims its stake through the lonely soul._

_Down the black path, the white throne becomes the goal,_

_One veiled by pain,_

_Though it will make the broken pieces whole._

 

_Sings the heart a song of conquest and faith._

_As the dark shudders beneath the weight,_

_Dusk breaks through the day, as light strikes the bone._

_Lost in thoughts all alone._

 

**Chapter One**

 

She stood in the middle of a field of white snow, though the Nohrian moon didn’t hang in the sky. Instead a blue expanse stretched above her, completely cloudless, and the sun burned down upon her but did nothing to help chase the chill from her bones.

Shoeless and pantless, she shivered as the frigid grasses not entirely covered poked and brushed against her ankles, walking forward without knowing where she was going. At first the stroll was leisurely as her eyes scanned the vast wilderness, searching for any sign of life and finding nothing. Not even small creatures scurried about the grass, the wind her only companion as it teased the thin fabric of her too-large nightshirt, sending shivers up her spine.

It was the sound of a roar that drove her into a sprint, rocks tearing into her feet as she sped across the plain, though she found she didn’t care. A sense of panic had filled her, dread settling in the pit of her gut as she followed a stream she somehow hadn’t noticed earlier, stumbling to the ground and skinning her knees on the cold ground when another roar shook the earth beneath her.

Feeling a warmth at her back, her head snapped up and she found herself looking into the face of a massive lion. Its fur was glowing white, mane as red and as burning as as a flame, lightning sparking from its paws where they touched the ground, though in spite of its terrifying appearance it looked at her with gentle eyes. Slowly it bowed, pushing its head into her hands where she found her fingers lost in the fur of a wild mane, a rumble emanating from its chest so deep that it shook her bones.

She felt safe, something about the odd creature driving the cold from her body at long last. Wrapping her arms as far around its neck as they could go, she pressed her cheek to the lion’s shoulder, amazed at the way the arcs of lightning around his paws didn’t harm her or the beast. She admired his coat, how the light glittered off of it like it was filled with diamonds, lulled into a sense of security by the soft rhythm of its breathing.

Then another roar shook the earth like thunder, and above her, the sky began to turn black.

Beneath her hands, the lion tensed, a low snarl building in its chest as it pulled away, the sun-like warmth inside of her leaving the moment she was bereft of the lion’s touch. Looking into his deep green-grey eyes, she reached out to place a hand on his muzzle, watching him press into her palm affectionately before he turned his eyes towards the distance, a storm raging inside of them.

He took a step forward and the wind began to howl, lashing at the bare skin of her legs, and though she called out to the lion he didn’t seem to hear, walking ever forward. Staring in the direction he was traveling, her eyes lighted on a shape in the darkness that she hadn’t seen at first, one that sent a thrill of terror through her entire body when she realized it was approaching her.

Another lion, black as a starless sky, tendrils of violet energy curling around its legs and paws as it advanced on her, eyes never turning away in spite of how the white lion bristled at its arrival. Its mane was a violet as deep as clouds against the black expanse of the Nohrian sky, illuminated only by the unholy glow of the darkness writhing at its feet, eyes ever intent, never turning its face away.

She tried to speak, tried to ask it what it wanted, but the words got stuck in her throat, tears blinding her as the burned her eyes.

A hot breath exhaled against her cheek and she looked up, the black lion close enough that she could feel his body heat as he stretched out so that their eyes were level. Opening and closing her mouth, she tried to scramble backwards but found that her limbs were frozen in place… And then she met his eyes.

Gentle.

They were impossibly sad and infinitely gentle, and though she had no doubt he was dangerous in every way, he had no intention of hurting her.

Slowly, she reached out, running her fingers through his mane and noting that it was wavy, something she hadn’t realized at first. Pressing into her touch, he nuzzled her face and made a concerned noise, placing a massive paw on her leg as if to comfort her and displaying an intelligence that wouldn’t normally be impossible in such a creature.

“I’m okay,” she managed, voice barely a whisper. “You just frightened me, showing up so suddenly like that.”

A low, threatening rumble sounded from nearby and the black lion suddenly drew away, the dying light catching against his pelt and making it sparkle like starlight. She could only watch as he turned, facing the white lion, who had grown as furious as a coming storm, the promise of destruction in his eyes as he looked upon the black lion, who stood protectively in front of her.

“Why do you have to fight?” she pleased, struggling to her feet, knees bleeding, though she barely felt it in the wake of the panic that had gripped her. “I don’t… I don’t understand.”

The white lion shook his head at her, kind but admonishing, as he stepped towards the black lion, who moved to shield her from view.

She could only watch as they began to circle each other, eyes growing wide as the wind around them picked up and rain began to fall from the sky. It was like ice lashing her skin, the sparking around the white lion’s feet growing brighter even against the darkness that poured from his adversary and threatened to consume him. Helplessly she watched on as the white lion lunged and the black held his ground, letting out a cry as the swipe of a mighty paw set heat and static pulsing through the cold air.

She forced herself to her feet, black hair whipping around her in the tempest, trying to run forward, to do anything to stop them, but she couldn’t. It was storming too hard, and they couldn’t hear her screams over the sounds of thunder rumbling around them, the snow beneath her quickly washing away, turning into slush.

Each step seemed to grow more difficult, and she panted, trying to push forward, the white shape of one of the lions still evident in the darkness while the other was nothing more than a pair of glowing, violet eyes, too human to belong to a mere animal. Crying out again, she screamed her voice raw to no avail, the earth turning unsteady beneath her feet, something screaming at her to interfere… To do something to stop the fighting, though she didn’t know what she could possibly do, what she was even capable of doing.

Without fail her screams turned into sobs, and she thought she wouldn’t mind if the earth itself were to suddenly swallow her whole if only so she didn’t have to watch the two lions tear one another limb from limb.

 

***

 

_Crash!_

The sound jolted her awake, sweat clinging to her body, briefly catching a familiar look annoyance on a snow-pale face before the man’s features smoothed over and he smiled at her pleasantly. Honestly, the sight of him alone immediately put Corrin at ease, even as she pushed herself into a sitting position and ran her hand through her thick, black hair.

Jakob always had a way of disarming her like that, of bringing her back to reality after even the most disturbing of dreams.  

Slowly she became aware of her surroundings, of the sounds of the servants bustling about her room, the clunking of armor, Gunter barking orders as Felicia and Flora scuttled about in the corner of her gaze. Before her, Jakob sat on the side of the bed, leaning towards her just enough so that he could reach out and place a hand to her forehead.

“It was just a dream,” she told him under her breath. “I’m not sick. What --”

She was cut off by the blare of a horn being sounded from the gates, her heart leaping into her throat as she reached out, fingers tangling in the fine fabric of Jakob’s sleeve. The fog in her mind cleared, and she remembered that today her siblings were coming for a visit, the first visit they’d made all together in well over a year.

“Xander,” she managed, her words ghosting across her own lips, though a smile quickly broke out across her face instead. “He’s coming this time! He’s --” Corrin laughed, the sound turning nervous as she tugged at the long locks of her hair. “He’s already here. Shit!”

She released Jakob, feet hitting the carpeted floor a moment later, threadbare nightshirt dwarfing her form as her eyes roved the room for her clothing. Already, she could feel Gunter’s amused stare on her back, knew that the look of concern on Jakob’s face hadn’t vanished and that the pile of smashed porcelain on the floor had been put there by Felicia.

“Ah. I see you’ve finally decided to grace us by waking,” Gunter said coolly. “Flora -- help dress Lady Corrin for her luncheon with the Crown Prince.” He turned, clapping his hands at Jakob, who had already risen from his position on the bed, smiling in a way that Corrin had long since realized bellied his annoyance. “And you, Jakob, go oversee the preparation of Lady Corrin’s armor. I’m certain the Crown Prince will desire to spar with her.”

As he always did, Corrin thought as Flora surged forward, her neat blue hair swaying as she tossed open the wardrobe to reveal the numerous dresses that had been foisted upon her by a doting older sister. Stifling a groan at the thought of having to spend the day playing dress-up, Corrin stepped forward to stand beside her maid and long-time friend, gesturing to a modest black and violet dress that she knew would likely appease Xander, listening as the door shut behind Gunter and Jakob, leaving her alone in the company of the maids who had spent the better part of all of their lives dressing and caring for Corrin’s needs.

“It’s lovely,” Flora said compulsorily in her sweet voice as Corrin unceremoniously shucked off her nightshirt, leaving her standing in the nude as she moved to her drawers, searching for her undergarments.

“The basin’s already on the washstand?” Corrin asked, coming away with utilitarian black fabric clasped in her hands.

“It is, Lady Corrin,” Flora replied as she soothed her hands over the fabric of the dress, pausing slightly before she glanced over her shoulder, a slight smile on her lips. “Did you really forget that we’d be hosting guests today?”

“In my defense, I did just wake up from an intense nightmare,” Corrin replied, putting on her undergarments with as much haste as she could manage, moving to the wash basin to help straighten herself out. “My mind’s still filled with other things.”

Like lions, lighting, the lurking darkness, and the lingering sense of loneliness she always felt in the Northern Fortress… Had become accustomed to after so many years living here. For her own good, everyone always said. She was sensitive to magic. The barrier here would protect her. She was the daughter of a Hoshidan who had been bold enough to have an affair with King Garon, so she had to be protected from those who would seek to do her harm.

She’d heard all the excuses a million times, resigned to the monotony that was her life, her dreams turned strange by the solitude of the cold, Northern mountains.

Her siblings visited her as often as they could, of course.

Elise and Camilla especially doted on her, claiming a deep bond as sisters as the motivation. They often brought her gifts, pieces of the outside world, little trinkets or jewelry, some sword polish, or the countless extravagant dresses fit for a life at the Nohrian Court that Corrin would never have. Leo would often steal away from his duties and bring her books, or more often than not simply the pleasure of his company, someone to play chess with, someone who shared her tendency for long nights and a penchant for full bodied teas.

But they were Royal Bastards, like her.

They could get away from the demands of their positions at court, abscond to the Northern Fortress and spend sometimes weeks at a time on holiday when things were quiet. It had happened more when they were all younger, before the tensions on the border had exploded into full out skirmishes and raids that needed to be quelled… But it still happened with enough frequency that the loneliness never got to her too much.

“Nearly finished washing, milady?” Flora asked, Corrin nodding as she turned about, reaching out for the vermillion bottle on her nightstand, dabbing fragrance on either side of her neck.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Corrin said as she lifted her arms over her head, watching Flora retrieve the stool she always used to help Corrin dress for formal occasions. “Lay it on me, Flora.”

Xander, Crown Prince of Nohr, her eldest brother, nearly never visited her… And always alone.

But today? Today he was coming, and he wasn’t coming on business to see Gunter or to check the fortifications. Today, Xander was coming specifically to see her, even if she knew he would inevitably leave at Moon’s Rise.

And that was more than she’d had with him in what felt like years.

The fabric fell over her head and Corrin forced her hands into the sleeves, shimmying the dress down her body as Flora tugged. When she finally managed to get it on, Flora smiled at her, reaching up to place a hand on the side of her face, though it only lasted for the briefest of moments before she pulled away.

“You look lovely, milady. Very … Very Nohrian,” she said, both of them jumping at the knock on the door.

“Come in,” Corrin called and the door opened.

Jakob rushed into the room, fluidly bowing to her before he straightened again and offered his arm to her. “You know I would never rush you, Lady Corrin,” he said in a gentle voice, “but the Crown Prince is in the entrance hall and has requested that I retrieve his ‘slugabed sister’ for him.”

“Were those his exact words?” Corrin asked, feeling a sudden wave of anxiety gnaw at her stomach, just like it always did when she was going to see Xander.

“Indeed,” Jakob replied as she took his arm, gently patting the back of her knuckles with her free hand.”Flora, where are --?”

“The Lady’s shoes are at the door,” Flora said with a bow and a smile. “I’ll pick up things here. If you need help serving the luncheon--”

“I would call on no one else,” Jakob assured her, Corrin not failing to notice the flush on Flora’s cheeks at the compliment.

The next several minutes were a flurry of movement, Jakob the sole grounding element that kept her moving forward, his composed face, not a strand of pale hair out of place, making her feel like she was more put together than she truly was. By the time they reached the entrance hall, still arm in arm, her anxiety had been reduced to something quieter… Erased entirely the moment she descended the staircase from the upper levels of the Fortress and heard Elise shout out in excitement.

“Sister!”

A moment later, Corrin had her arms full of little sister, burying her hair in Elise’s thick, blonde hair and squeezing tightly. When she pulled away, it was only to be grabbed by Camilla, who embraced her and placed embarrassing kisses to both of her cheeks, releasing her just in time to see Leo smirking smugly at her before he reached out and squeezed her hand in gentle, brotherly, reassurance.

And then…

And then.

“It’s been a long time, little princess,” said Xander, staring down at her with the same perpetual furrow between his brows that she could never remember not being there, though his eyes were soft. “You look…” his eyes slid over her, taking in her appearance as he reached out, placing a hand on the top of her head ever so briefly, “you look healthy.”

“Big brother,” she said quickly, resisting the urge to curtsey after the number of times he’d frowned and told her that she needn’t stand on formality with him when Father wasn’t visiting. “You look…”

Honestly, he looked tired, but she didn’t think it was a good idea to say that, so instead she smiled at him and settled for letting herself trail off, taking a step forward before wrapping her arms around his center. “I missed you so much, Xander.”

He returned her embrace, stroking his fingers briefly before his hair, and for a moment he was the sincere and awkward boy who had treated her with kindness when she’d first been brought into the Royal Family; the Xander that Corrin so often found herself missing dearly. A moment later he pushed her away, placing both of his hands on her shoulders and offering up a small smile that softened his entire face.

“And I missed you, as always. Now…” As his hands fell he returned to his usual self, his eyes sliding towards Jakob and Gunter, who Corrin hadn’t even realized was in the room. “Now that I know that you’re feeding her properly, shall we eat?”

“Excellent idea,” Camilla cooed from nearby, beaming at Corrin. “I’m famished from traveling, and it’s been so long since we’ve all had a meal together as a family.”

“Then I would ask you to come this way, Lords and Ladies,” Gunter said, waving his hand and bowing stiffly, his eyes rising and meeting Xander’s for the briefest of moments. “My Prince.”

A touch on her shoulder, and Corrin looked up into Xander’s face to find him offering her his arm, his expression still fond, “little princess?”

Taking his arm, she smiled back at him and let him lead her to the dining hall.

 

***

 

The luncheon had been nice, but Corrin had been relieved when it was finally over and she could change into her armor. She always felt much more at ease dressed this way with a sword at her side than she ever felt in dresses, behaving like the Lady of the Court that she was technically supposed to be.

Of course she could do the needlework, could arrange flowers, could set a table. After all, she’d learned all the same things as Camilla and Elise had in those respects, as Father would not let her be anything less than the perfect Lady, even all the way out here in her isolation. But there was something to be said for the feeling of a sword in her hand and the comfortable weight of armor on her shoulders, and when she was moving with her blade?

She found a release she could get nowhere else.

“Is he already waiting?” Corrin asked Jakob as they walked towards the courtyard where the training equipment was stored.

“Of course. His Divine Weapon is even at the ready,” her stalwart butler responded with a smile that did not match the crease in his brow. “It seems you’re in for quite a treat today, Lady Corrin, if his demeanour is any indication.”

“That serious, huh?” she asked, and then laughed. “He’s always serious, Jakob. Have you ever seen him smile for more than a few seconds at a time?”

“I have to admit that I haven’t,” Jakob replied, the barest hint of a smile on his lips, “though that is like rude to say about the Crown Prince.”

Corrin laughed as they exited the long corridors into the cobbled courtyard, the stars twinkling high above them, her breath coming out in puffs of air. The moon was starting to sink in the sky, a sure sign that the everdark of night was coming swiftly, especially at this time of year. Elise and Camilla stood off to one side, chatting with Felicia about something, while Leo talked quietly with Gunter. Jakob joined Flora off to the other side of their makeshift arena, briefly squeezing Corrin’s shoulder reassuringly as she advanced on Xander, who was sitting on a pile of crates and inspecting the Legendary Blade Siegfried.

She hadn’t actually expected to see it, she realized, her eyes going a bit wide. From a young age, she’d known it was his and that it had Chosen him, but she had never really seen it in person before. Sleek and black, elegant but somehow wicked, a gem near the base of the blade itself seemed to glow red, glinting like the eye of some beast as Xander shifted his weapon to examine it.

He looked up as she approached, eyes sliding over her in her armor before giving her a nod of approval. “There you are. All ready?”

“I am, but…” she hesitated, trailing off, eyes darting towards the people who had gathered to watch this like it was some kind of spectacle, “we usually don’t have an audience.”

“At Court, the eyes of all of Nohr will be on you,” Xander said simply, rising to his feet, a stillness settling over his features, the rest of the people gathered growing somber. “You must learn not to care if you’re to survive,” he reached out with with Siegfried and tapped her shoulder with the flat of the blade. “Eyes on me.”

Corrin swallowed, wondering why he still bothered to talk like she would ever leave the Northern Fortress. She’d been here for many long years, knowing only these halls, these people, with only blurry memories of the months she’d spent in Windmire before Father had spirited her away for her own protection.

“So…” she began, attempting to push such thoughts from her head by living in the present, “just focus on you?”

The brief flash of a smile across his lips was her only warning as he surged at her, leaving her no choice but to stand her ground and block his attack. Xander drove hard at her, barely leaving her any space to breath, attacking with such ferocity that genuine fear rose to her throat and set her survival instincts on edge. Corrin had absolute faith in Xander’s ability to pull his blows, had spent hours learning the theory of swordplay from him, but there was a look in his eyes and a determination behind his attacks that made this feel more real than any time they’d ever sparred before.

“Fight back!” he demanded. “The point of defensive fighting is to bide your time while searching for an opening, not to stall the fight forever!” Another well aimed blow that she barely managed to deflect as he scolded her, her arms beginning to ache from the force of each hit as they sent vibrations down her arms. “The longer a fight lasts, the more precious energy you waste!”

Taking a breath, she closed her eyes for the briefest of seconds, listening to the sound of his boots against the stone. Watching his feet, she moved with him, doing her best to think of this as a life or death battle as she dashed forward, trying to get close enough that it would be more difficult for him to reach her without some flexibility.  She let out a cry and dove forward, knowing that she risked leaving herself open on her left side but determined to tap him out, something she’d never managed before.

She realized too late that she wasn’t about to manage it now, either.

As she rushed towards him, she could see understanding flicker in the depths of his eyes, stepping out of the way and pivoting to face her exposed left flank. Siegfried was already hurtling at her broad-side before she had a chance to respond, hitting her shoulder with bruising force and sending her stumbling and tripping across the cobblestones.

“An admirable effort,” Xander acknowledged, looking completely unaffected by the physical activity, “but not enough.”

She pushed herself to her feet, wincing as she turned to face him.

“Again,” he ordered.

Corrin charged.

This went on for some time, some of their audience leaving to go do other things, though Jakob and Elise remained, now sitting side by side. Elise cheered and grasped Jakob’s arm every time Corrin nearly landed a hit on Xander, while Jakob himself looked more anxious than he had any right to. Gunter continually checked in on them, and by the fourth time had come and left, Corrin had grown so exhausted, had been hit so many times, that she knew she would wake up sore the next morning…

And that Jakob would certainly complain that Xander had been far too rough with her.

“You’re hesitating,” Xander said, momentarily dropping the point of Siegfried, rolling his shoulders as he reached up and ran a hand through his now-sweaty hair. “Corrin. I need you to attack me like you mean it. I’m not your brother right now, I’m your enemy.”

“But, Brother --”

Xander held up a hand and his face softened as he took several steps towards her. His hand fell on her shoulder and he quietly shook his head, giving her shoulder a small squeeze. “Little princess,” he said seriously, his voice uncharacteristically soft, “the real world won’t spare you because you’ve the blood of the Dragons. I… I need you to understand. This is for your own good. Now --”

He pulled away, walked a few paces, and leveled Siegfried at her. For once, the smile was still on his lips as he beckoned with his other hand, encouraging her like he always had when he’d first started teaching her all those years ago.

“Come at me,” he commanded, and Corrin fell into stance.

For a moment she circled him, sizing him up, and then pushed forward. If he were an enemy, she wouldn’t hold back, wouldn’t hesitate because Xander was right -- If she did, she would die. She knew she would die.

Grasping the hilt of her sword to stop her hands from shaking, she kept light on her feet, dodging when he brought up her blade to tap her. Feinting, she felt a wave of triumph when he fell for the move, diving low when he went high in an attempt to block her. With a grunt, knowing that this would be a desperate move in a real fight but that she just had to hit him, she tapped his leg with the side of her blade as she moved past, sliding onto the ground, metal scraping against the stone with a screech.

Elise screamed and cheered loudly, clapping, and Corrin could picture her jumping up and down joyously… And in fact could even hear Jakob cheering for her as she turned around and looked up into Xander’s eyes. His expression was… Gentle, fond, a smile softening his features as he walked over to her and held out his hand, pulling her easily to her feet.

“Not perfect,” he said, looping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her into an awkward side-hug, “but you managed. I’m… I’m proud of you. This is good news. Better than I could have hoped for. I …”

“Xander!” Elise shouted, running across the cobblestones, heels of her boots clicking furious. “You promised you’d let me tell her!”

“I did,” Xander said, not pulling away, Corrin feeling heat rise to her face at the undue attention that she almost never got from him.

It felt… Good.

Good to have him acknowledge her.

“You beat Xander! That means you get to leave!” Elise practically cheered, wrapping her arms around them both in spite of the fact that they both looked and smelled horrible. “You can finally come home with us, big sis. We can be… We can be a family!”

The words nearly stopped Corrin’s heart, and she immediately looked up into Xander’s face for confirmation, her eyes going wide. He smiled, still warm and genuine, and squeezed her shoulder gently where he held it, his slight nod bringing tears to her eyes, her body shaking as she turned her head and buried it in his torso to hide her face.

“I get to leave?” she asked, voice muffled. “I get to go live with you in… in Windmire? I... “

“Yes,” Xander confirmed, this time verbally. “Tonight, we’ll celebrate. Camilla has been planning a meal for you for… For weeks, I believe.” Xander genuinely laughed at that, his hand leaving her shoulder to ruffle her hair before he pulled away. “Come on now. Let’s go get cleaned up and not leave our family waiting any longer.”

He started to walk away, Elise still clinging to Corrin, before he paused and looked at her over his shoulder. “You’re finally coming home,” he said, his own voice breathless and a bit awed as he smiled at her.

It was all she could do to return the smile, dropping her blade to the ground and pulling Else into a tight embrace, unable to stop her tears from falling down her cheeks.

 

***

 

That night, Elise dozing off against her shoulder, Corrin sat on the couch in the Great Room for the last time. Camilla’s fingers gently stroked through her hair, and Leo sat, reading a book after they had finished their game of chess an hour or so ago. Things were peaceful, incredibly peaceful, but it all felt somewhat dreamlike to her.

Especially when she looked at Xander, tending the fire, blonde curls catching and holding the light of the flames in the hearth. Corrin wasn’t used to him being in this scenario, wasn’t even really used to seeing him not wearing some kind of armor or wearing a sword at his hip, and wondered if this was what he was usually like when he had down time. Usually, he was working when she saw him, so watching him be so peaceful was… Nice.

In fact, everyone looked peaceful, and she felt a sense of contentment bloom in her own chest in response. Kissing the top of Elise’s head, she earned herself a sleepy giggle as the young woman curled more closely into her side, muttering affirmations of her affection.

“This is so lovely,” Camilla said, her fingers pausing as she looked between Leo and Xander. “All of us together, just as we should be… And we won’t be separated again. We’ll stay together, and one day we’ll all serve a new king, our beloved eldest brother.”

“Beloved am I?” Xander asked, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he looked up from the fire. “I had no idea you felt that way, Camilla. Tell me, what is it that you want?”

“Must I always want something, Xander? Can’t I simply compliment you without you being suspect?” Corrin felt her lean forward ever so slightly, “I simply think it’s wonderful that our sweet Corrin is finally being brought back home, where she truly belongs.”

“Where she’s always belonged,” Leo said coolly, Xander casting him a long look, which he returned with a blank stare. “She has, Xander. Father may have done this to protect her, but the amount of time she’s spent here is excessive.”

“Father is an excessive man,” Xander said simply, “but you may be right. I worry that it may have done more harm than good, in the long run. I’ve done everything I can to prepare her for the reality that awaits her.” His eyes shifted back to Camilla, offering her what Corrin could only describe as a reassuring smile. “Ah… But you’re also correct, Camilla. We won’t be separated any longer. I… I won’t allow it.”

“Reality?” Corrin asked softly, her brow furrowing.

“The war,” said Leo. “Though it’s mostly a cold war at this point. Who can win more pointless border skirmishes. Who can gain the favor of other countries and influence their politics the most. Who can spread the most horrible propaganda.”

“I think we both know the answer to that, my dearest Leo, is Hoshido,” Camilla muttered warmly, “but it won’t matter. Corrin will have us to protect her. You don’t have to worry, sweetie,” Camilla bowed her head and pressed a soft kiss to Corrin’s brow. “We all love you ever so much. I swear we’ll protect you.”

“Father sends you out to fight.”  It wasn’t a question, and though she had already known the answer, it somehow hadn’t occurred to her that it would be expected of her, as well. “I… I don’t have any experience.”

“Border skirmishes,” Leo quickly interjected, preventing her from panicking. “You might be sent to guard an important Nohrian Noble abroad or oversee the training of a regiment or border patrol as a representative of the Royal House. Only Xander or Camilla really ever see front line duty.”

“Yes,” Xander agreed. “You’re inexperienced and father knows that. He is a practical man, and it is for that reason that he will not send a babe to the slaughter. In all truth, you’ll likely be placed under my command, anyway. Your skill with horses is well known, and as a swordsman…”

“I’d make a good cavalier,” she finished, Xander simply nodding in response.

“Yes. Perhaps even a Paladin, someday, should you wish,” he continued, then placed the poker back in place, leaning forward to look into her eyes with earnest intensity. “Don’t worry, Corrin. I promise, I will always protect you.”

“Just follow our lead and you’ll be fine,” Leo told her, his finger in his book, holding his place, “and remember to rely on your wits, not just your sword arm. It can’t get you out of everything, in spite of what Xander might have you believe.”

“Wits?” Xander asked, a softer sort of smile touching his lips. “Is that why you always put on your clothing inside out?”

Leo flushed brightly, quickly standing up, “I just remembered that I need to send Niles a message and tell him to prepare the way home. Excuse me.”

Camilla and Xander both laughed, Corrin awed at how relaxed everything had become in the last few moments. It actually felt like they were a family, because this is how she imagined it would be whenever she thought about what it would feel like to live with her siblings when she was just a small child. This sort of gentle warmth, this playful teasing, the ability to discuss serious topics but return to a place of levity and comfort when things became too serious.

“I think I’ll take Elise up to bed,” Camilla said, breaking the silence, pushing gently at Corrin, who shifted to let her up. “Poor dear was worn out by all the excitement.”

She reached down and effortlessly pulled Elise into her arms, kissing Corrin on the head one last time before walking over and doing the same for Xander. Her eldest brother sighed, smiling at Camilla before gently soothing a strand of hair behind Elise’s ear and kissing her forehead tenderly.

“Get some rest,” Camilla said as she backed away, her eyes darting between Xander and Corrin, “both of you. Gods know you really _are_ related.”

It was quiet after she left, the fire crackling softly, Xander’s seat creaking as he shifted. For a long while, they both stared into the fire, watching as the logs were consumed, wood turning into ash as the flames ate them away bit by bit. It was peaceful, and for once Corrin felt comfortable with Xander, secure in their shared silence.

“I… Feel I should apologize,” he said, breaking the contemplative atmosphere, words measured in the way they most often seemed to be.

“For what?” Corrin asked, pulling her legs up to her chest as she sat on the couch, tugging the blanket Elise had left behind around her shoulders. “You haven’t done anything wrong today, that I can think of.”

“I… I left you,” he said, eyes flickering between her and the flame. “I haven’t visited as much as I should. You’re my sister, and I try… I try to be there for my siblings. To protect them. But I let Gunter and your staff have that duty. So…” he said with a soft exhalation of breath, strands of blonde hair falling over the edge of his circlet and into his eyes. “So I’m sorry.”

She didn’t respond right away, not really sure how to. It was honestly the last thing she had expected him to say after all these years, after the first time she’d be shoved into his arms as a crying child and he’d taken responsibility for her. He was right that they’d grown apart, but he was the Crown Prince of all of Nohr, and he couldn’t spend his time worrying about one lonely girl locked away in a tower when he had subjects and duties, and other things to see to.

“It’s okay,” she said at long last, noting the way his shoulders seemed to relax ever so slightly at the sound of her voice. “I forgive you, Xander. I have Jakob and the others, and you always visited when you could. Besides you were…” she breathed out softly. “You’re here today. That means a lot to me.”

At those words he turned his head and smiled at her, simply looking for a moment before he stood and walked over to her, reaching out to place his hand on her head. “You’ll be fine,” he said simply, then turned his eyes towards the dark stairwell that Camilla had ascended moments ago. “We’d best get some rest, Corrin. We set out early in the morning.”

“Right,” she agreed, already knowing she wouldn’t be able to rest, knowing that Jakob would probably have to sacrifice his own sleep for her again. “Sleep well, big brother.”

Xander’s only response was a smile and a fond ruffle of her hair as he walked away.


	2. The Hallow Voice

Windmire was as quiet as she remembered it being when she was a girl. 

The sound of her sobs echoing through the empty streets would never leave her mind, even if the rest of her memories from that time had faded or become hazy. Even right now the sound of hooves against cobblestone was the only thing she could hear other than her own breathing, and her siblings had gone quiet long ago, even Jakob no longer his usual self. 

Grasping the reins of her horse tightly, she glanced quickly towards Camilla, who gave her a reassuring smile as the gates of the castle began to creak open at their approach. The gargoyles on the ledges stared down at them from above, glaring and snarling, their dragon-like wings casting shadows on the stones below. 

She kept her head down, wincing at the sounds of her boots hitting the ground, her body tensing when a hand fell on her shoulder. Looking up, she found herself looking into Xander’s face, his brow furrowed more deeply as he moved his hand towards the center of her back.  

“Father will want to see you as soon as he is informed of our progress,” he said, looking towards Jakob and Gunter, who had joined them. “See that my sister is outfitted in her armor for her audience with King Garon.”

“Of course, My Prince,” Gunter replied with a stiff bow as Xander pulled away only for Corrin to be drawn into Camilla’s arms and squeezed tightly. 

She said nothing, but when she drew away, tucking a strand of loose hair behind Corrin’s ear, her brow was creased and her gaze intense beyond her usual serene smile. Hands lingering a bit too long on Corrin’s shoulders, she quickly stepped to Xander’s side, Leo and Elise following, though not without giving her their own small reassurances -- a small nod and a beaming smile that did not quite reach the eyes. 

It was like someone had painted over her siblings and desaturated them, turning them into different people than the ones she’d always known. Honestly, it frightened her a bit to see them like this, to see them so distant. They were worlds apart from the warm people she’d spent so much time with growing up, but… 

But it also wasn’t really surprising, not when she pictured father’s dark violet eyes, as piercing as they always were, set in his broad and unmoving face. 

“Come, Lady Corrin,” Jakob muttered, drawing her from her thoughts as Gunter lead them away from the courtyard, their horses quicky entrusted to some of the staff. 

Hugging closely to Jakob’s side, their arms entwined, she was barely aware of the transition from silent walking to Gunter’s orders, to the familiar sound of metal on metal as she was outfitted with the black armor she’d been gifted years ago. Fingers clasping and unclasping at her side, she remained quiet as Gunter lead them towards the Grand Hall, where she would meet with Father for the first time in over a year, grateful for the familiar presence of her butler just behind her shoulder. 

Once more, she feared she would float away without him there to ground her. 

All too soon, the doors of the Grand Hall were creaking open and Corrin was entering, staring towards her father’s right hand side, where Xander stood, to make herself take the steps across the yawning corridor. Her footsteps echoed distractingly but she kept her eyes straight ahead, finally dropping to one knee before Father, his eyes on her back as intense as twin flames. 

For a moment she simply kneeled before him, releasing a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding when his deep voice at last echoed across the room. 

“Rise, my daughter,” he commanded, “so that I may look upon your face at long last.” 

Corrin looked towards him, lifting her chin as the massive, black shape that was King Garon walked down the stairs. He looked… Worse than last time she had seen him, his skin so pale that it looked grey in the green-blue light of the glowstone lanterns on the walls, his massive armor and furred cloak seeming to hang from his frame. It seemed he had lost more weight, even his once-blonde hair a thinning white now, only  his violet eyes the same, as sharp and cool as they had always been. 

She remained in place as he reached out, cupping her face in his icy hands as he examined her, a vague note of approval in his tone as he hummed. Pulling away, he walked slowly back to the Grand Hall’s small throne, sinking back into his seat, thin lips pulled back into a toothy smile that looked more like a skull’s perpetual grin than anything warm or paternal. 

“I have heard from Xander that you have done quite well in your training,” Father continued, waving his hand at Iago, the greasy man beside him, who quickly scrambled to fill the King’s goblet with some form of berry wine. “Of course, you must yet prove yourself to me completely as your sister and brothers have, but it is progress nonetheless. You shall be commended.” 

“Thank you, Father,” she said with a bow, listening to the sound of his leather gloves slapping together.

Guards that she hadn’t noticed earlier seemed to materialize from the shadows, kneeling before her with a box upon a delicate velvet cushion. Glancing briefly towards Camilla, who nodded in encouragement, she reached out and took the small box, opening it to find a golden ring with a violet jewel. Her eyes snapped back to Father and she quickly bowed and muttered her gratitude, confused when Father motioned towards Xander, who stepped towards her. 

“Hold out your hand,” Xander commanded, his voice ringing with the authority of the Crown Prince, prompting Corrin to do so, watching as he took the ring from the box in one hand and gently took her hand with the other. “Lady Corrin, it is my honor as Crown Prince of Nohr to present you with this token of our King and Father’s affection. Wear it proudly, for it reflects our leige’s favor.” 

“The Kingdom of Nohr and my King and Father honor me,” she said as he slipped the ring onto her right hand. “I will do everything within my power to be deserving of this boon and to bring glory to Nohr.” 

Xander pulled away, the barest hint of approval in the curve of his lips, walking back towards Father’s side, where he stood at attention, hands clasped together behind his back. Father nodded and hummed, glancing between the two of them briefly before nodding. “Very well,” he said with a wave of his hand. “I need to prepare your trial, so I will send for you tonight after dinner. For now, perhaps, Xander and the others can show you the grounds?”

“Then I have your leave, Father?” Xander asked, their father nodding at him in response. “Thank you,” he continued with a small bow before descending the steps and offering Corrin his arm. “We will make good use of this time, Father.” 

Corrin took the arm offered to her, relieved the moment they walked from the doors, their siblings only steps behind them. She released a breath, some of the tension from her shoulders draining away, though the right still felt heavy on her finger, her family surrounding her a constant reminder of why she was putting herself through this anxiety, though she could still hardly believe she was here. 

“You did it!” Elise said, immediately wrapping her arms as far as she could around both Corrin and Xander. 

“Not quite yet, dear,” Camilla crooned from nearby, “but at least we have a break for now. Shall we all eat lunch together?” Corrin watched her eyes flicker upwards towards Xander, his arm still entwined with Corrin’s. “It’s not often you get to join as anymore, big brother.” 

“I wouldn’t miss this opportunity,” Xander said, his voice much more quiet than it had been in the throne room as he reached up with his free hand, placing it atop Elise’s head. “Come. The kitchens are preferable to the Dining Hall… And we’re unlikely to be bothered there.”

“The kitchens it is, then,” Leo agreed, already setting off down the hallway. “I wonder, brother, is it even worth it disarming until after Corrin’s trial?”

“Most certainly not,” Xander replied as he pulled away from Elise and Corrin. 

“Unfortunate. It gets uncomfortable after awhile.” 

It was Camilla who took Corrin’s arm, trailing after Xander as they walked towards the kitchen at a leisurely pace. Elise and Leo bickered quietly, Camilla interjecting occasionally as Xander smiled and looked onward, though he frequently cast his gaze towards Corrin. The sights and sounds on the way to the kitchens were more familiar than elsewhere, reminding her that once she had lived in this grand castle before being taken to the Northern Fortress by Gunter. 

Corrin remembered the feeling of Xander’s arms, remembered him gently chiding Leo about his eating habits,  recalled all too clearly how he and Camilla had integrated a newborn Elise into their routine as if nothing had changed. She hadn’t been here that long and so much else from her time here she’d forgotten, but she remembered this path, the one she’d taken to breakfast every morning in Xander’s arms, and then hand in hand so that they wouldn’t get separated. 

Stepping into the kitchens, they were immediately greeted by a chorus of voices, Xander’s deep voice managing to cut through them as he issued orders, the servants rushing this way and that to see that they were fulfilled, pulling out Corrin’s seat so that she could sit next to him. She pulled herself up onto the stool, smiling out of the side of her mouth at him as he clasped a hand on her shoulder and returned her smile somewhat stiffly. 

“It’s so good to have you here,” Camilla said, taking the seat on Corrin’s other side, wrapping her arm tightly around her sister’s shoulder. “My sweet little sister, right where she always should have been.”

She pressed a sloppy kiss to Corrin’s cheek, Corrin laughing and pushing her away, quickly scooting her stool closer to Xander, who shook his head and shot Camilla an amused look. 

“Well, now we’re outnumbered,” Leo said, leaning against a wall as he waited, his eyes scanning Corrin with an expression in them that suggested he couldn’t quite believe she was there. “Two to three, Xander. That means they’ll outargue us on everything.”

“Xander already sides against you,” Elise said, sticking her tongue out. “It’s because I’m his favorite.”

“You  _ wer _ e his favorite,” Leo corrected, his grin widening as he looked at Corrin. “Now his _ little princess _ is here, so you don’t stand a chance.” 

Camilla laughed loudly, reaching around Corrin to push lightly at Xander’s shoulders, the man in question of course staring at Leo with narrowed eyes and a frown on his ever-serious face. In spite of that his ears had turned a bit red, and his fingers drummed the surface of the table, Camilla’s laughter shaking her shoulders. 

“So cute,” she said, “the Crown Prince embarrassed by the meddling of his troublesome younger siblings.”  

“You are… Very troublesome, yes,” Xander said, his voice filled with barely restrained laughter. “You’re fortunate you’re my siblings, or there may be dire consequences for your insult to my station as the future sovereign lord of Nohr.” 

Their banter was momentarily interrupted by the sound of the servants reentering the room with food. It was simple fare - the usual bread and meat with gravy - but Corrin hardly minded, basking in the presence of her family that had been denied her so long. She drank it in, enjoying the way Camilla’s eyes lit up, noting her dimples when she smiled, and how Leo would laugh nervously when he was embarrassed, or the way Elise kept reaching across the table to touch Xander’s hands. 

The topic of conversation shifted and meandered over various subjects, from horses, to the study of history and strategy, to the threat of war that always pressed in on Nohr from her eastern border, along the Spine. She learned a lot about what had been happening further south, and she learned more of Hoshido, the land from which her traitor-mother, lover to King Garon, had hailed. 

Her siblings were reluctant to discuss the details, of course, something she understood. War was horrible and they had lived it, so it wasn’t a place she;d willingly ask them to return to, especially when they seemed so key on only discussing it when they needed to prepare her for what she would face out in the field. Instead, they talked about politics, about the succession, and about their various hobbies, some of which they even shared with Corrin. 

Xander watched over it all, and when it was finally over, he ordered his siblings to see to getting Corrin’s things sorted away… A task Camilla and Elise looked entirely too elated about, something Leo did not fail to point out. They only laughed, leaving Corrin concerned about what she would be wearing for her court attire, Leo promising her that he would supervise them to the best of his ability before he turned to go, leaving her alone with Xander. 

Truly alone with Xander, she noted, as even the servants had gone, not even a little child reamining to stoke the burning logs in the fireplace. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked, still sitting directly beside her, nursing a cup of the weak cider they’d had with lunch in his gauntleted hands. “I… Would have given you chance to rest before these meetings, but you know how Father can be, from time to time…”

He trailed off, looking away and staring into the fading fire, used for heat in Nohr more than for light. The flames cast orange reflections off his circlet and the ringlets of his golden hair, emphasizing the sharp lines of his face and reminding her that there was an entire part of this man she had never seen… 

The solemn family in the Hall, of whom she had only caught glimpses before this. 

“Overwhelmed,” she admitted to him, looking into her own cup to stare at her reflection, yellow-gold in the the liquid. “I’m not used to having to deal with Father constantly. Is it always going to be this hard to know what to say? Or does it get easier?” 

There was a pause, Xander’s knit brow furrowing further, wood of his stool creaking underneath him as he shifted. “There will come a time when you’ll understand, Corrin, what Father wants. For now … Just do as he says,” Xander’s eyes focused on her, as intense and as hard as rubies in the dimly lit kitchen. “There is a time and a place for questioning an order. The place for doing it… It’s not Father’s presence.” 

She sighed, rubbing her shoulder, remembering the times Gunter had taken a belt to her when she was just a girl. It hadn’t been his fault, not really, not when she’d been the one to disobey King Garon in the first place and receive the lashes as a result of her own disobedience. She could still hear the sound of the leather belt cracking and feel the sting of those phantom welts, not wanting to imagine what his temper might unleash upon her now that she was fully grown. 

“I… I know,” she said, her voice coming out rougher than she had intended it to. 

“Even if he asks you to do something distasteful,” Xander emphasized, his hand falling on her shoulder as he placed his cup on the table before them, inhaling slightly as he met her eye, the briefest expression of hesitance. “Father is practical, but he only keeps that which is… Valuable to him. Corrin…” 

His face fell and he seemed to be struggling with himself, something she had never really seen before, not like this. Xander always seemed so self-assured, so measured in his words and his manner, that this uncertainty felt out of character and left her filled with a sense of disquiet, and she wrung her hands together, unable to meet his eyes. 

“Be valuable to Father,” he said at last. “Follow his orders and you will endear yourself to him. As sure as the moon always sets and rises, your competence is a better shield than anything else.”  

She didn’t respond, and Xander didn’t ask her to.

Instead, he simply stood and offered her his arm once more. 

“Join me,” he said, “for a stroll in the gardens. It would do you well not to dwell on anything before your trial.”

Trying her best to push her worries from her mind, Corrin drained the rest of her cider from her cup, slammed it onto the counter, and then took Xander’s arm in her own. 

 

***

 

They stood before her, bound and bruised, the bright red eyes of the woman spitting flames a thousand times hotter than anything she had ever felt in her life before that moment. Her constraints seemed a moment from fraying completely, only Xander’s boot on her back preventing her from moving, his face cold and completely unmoving. 

The green haired man was more impassive, his expression morphing from one of mystified confusion the moment he set eyes upon her to a face so blank it had to be rehearsed. Still, his eyes never left her, following her as she approached Father, still sitting in his throne, Iago at his side with a grin on his face. 

“Ah, the guest of honor has arrived,” Father said, spreading his hands wide, a grin introducing the room to his teeth. “My precious daughter, welcome. Behold, the trial I have prepared for you.” 

“Father?” she asked, her throat growing tight as she came close enough to notice the bruises on the man’s pale skin, faded enough to be mistaken as shadows cast by his dark green hair. 

“These Hoshidan criminals were captured within our borders,” Iago explained, stepping forward to speak, gesturing grandly with his bony fingers. “We suspect them to be spies, and wish to send the message that we are not to be trifled with once and for all.” 

The robed man clapped his hands together, spinning about as guards stepped forward, his hair oily in the green light of the glowstones. “You there,” the Royal Viser ordered, pointing to one of the guards with a claw-like finger, “Lady Corrin requires your blade in order to execute the Hoshidans. Give it to her.” 

With a mechanical bow, the man unsheathed his blade from his side, falling to one knee as he presented to her with a bowed head. Swallowing thickly, she reached out, the leather familiar in her grasp, though she could feel her own pulse in it, making her feel as though the blade itself had a heartbeat. 

Setting her jaw, she told herself that it was better her first kills be here than on the field of battle and took the sword from the man’s hands, turning her gaze towards the prisoners. Looking at them now, it was obvious what they were, the shape of their eyes and the set of their mouths different… More like her own, the thought occurred to her, stuck in her throat as she stepped forward, trying to give them the dignity of looking them in the eyes before their deaths. 

“Well?!” The woman demanded, her voice barking into the silence, teeth snapping together as she closed her jaw quickly. “Don’t just stand there like a scared rabbit! Give me the dignity of a quick death or let the bastard pinning me to the tiles fin--”

Pain flickered across her features for the brief moment longer that Corrin could see her face, finally tearing her eyes away to stare up at Xander, his boot now pressed to the back of her neck as he forced her to kiss the fine marble tile. 

“You will not address a Princess of Nohr so flippantly,” he growled, his voice barely sounding human, the way its rumble echoed reminding Corrin all too well that the blood of Dragons flowed in their veins. “Consider death at her hands a mercy, wretch, and be grateful you are not being delivered onto crueler hands.” 

“Like yours?” the man with the green hair finally asked, still staring at Corrin. 

Xander’s eyes flashed red but he did not respond, his own eyes straying to Corrin, whose knuckles were white on the hilt of the blade. She could see the ring she’d been gifted standing in stark relief on her hand and thought about how the Hoshdians threatened Nohr’s borders, how their damn barrier had kept her locked away for over a decade of her life and kept her away from her family, and how their barrier and callousness to the suffering of the Nohrian people caused countless civilians to starve and die. 

She didn’t want to do this, but she had to.

She had to do it for Nohr. 

“I’m--” she began, starting to apologize, though she quickly swallowed down the words when she felt her father’s eyes burning into her. “For your crimes against my people, I hereby sentence you to death.” 

She raised her blade, fully prepared to bring it down on the woman’s neck, but her hands slipped, sweaty on the grip and the sword nearly tumbled to the ground. The confidence she’d felt but a moment earlier quickly melted into a swirling pit of uncertainty somewhere in the depths of her stomach and she found herself choking back bile. 

These were  _ lives _ , real, living people. 

They weren’t trying to kill her or maim here on the field of battle where she might not have any choice but to defend herself. The woman and man were prisoners, and they were sitting here, staring at her like the expected her to kill them without any remorse whatsoever. 

“Daughter?” 

Her father’s commanding voice cut through her doubt, painful and white hot, but her hands were shaking too badly… And when she looked into those eyes… 

She just saw herself reflected black in angry red and sorrowful grey. 

“I…”

Immediately a pair of hands wrapped around her wrists and she jerked her head up, looking into Leo’s face. He was pale, his expression severe, and he shook his head slowly from side to side as he forced her to lower his arms and raised a single hand, the pages of the book fastened to his belt by leather straps glowing eerie violet and green.

“Forgive her father,” he said as she was pulled back into Camilla’s chest. “I’m afraid that she’s still too used to the Tower. Allow me.” 

Corrin wanted to scream at Leo to stop, but Camilla’s hand swiftly covered her mouth, her eyes brimming with hot tears as she watched vines and branches tear their way through clothing, hearing the sounds of cracking wood and ripping flesh as the man and woman fell motionless amidst a tangle of arcane plant life. Unable to stop herself from shaking or stop looking at the bodies, she struggled only when Camilla tried to turn her away and hold Corrin against her chest. 

“No,” she muttered, shaking her head vehemently, the reality that she might need to return the Northern Fortress slowly falling onto her shoulders as she looked up into her father’s glacial face. “No… I… I….”

“Froze?” Iago sneered, as if speaking with her father’s voice. “Such a disappointment. And here the Crown Prince had such high hopes for you…” He clicked his tongue, glancing towards her father, still on the Throne, still impassive. “What shall we do with her, My Liege?”

“Father.” 

The single word hung in the air, Corrin’s attention immediately snapping towards Xander, who was staring up at the throne, eyes narrowed and jaw set. She watched, her stomach still sick, as he slowly bent the knee before King Garon and crossed his right arm over his chest, blonde hair falling into his eyes. 

Father looked… Intrigued, his stormy gaze flickering between Xander and herself before he waved his hand and nodded, leaving Iago looked deeply annoyed and entirely dissatisfied. 

“Speak, Xander,” their Father ordered, “and pray that I find what you have to say of value.”

“As Iago has so gracefully pointed out,” Xander said as he lifted his chin to meet Father’s steely stare, “I am the one responsible for Corrin’s inadequacies as her instructor. I … Humbly request one more evening to impress upon her the importance of stoicism in the service of Nohr. If it pleases you… She may take your trial again.” 

“There can be no repeat of this trial,” Iago snapped, his voice making Corrin flinch enough that Camilla drew her back against her chest as Elise weaved their fingers together. 

“No,” the King drawled in agreement, “there cannot, but…” 

Corrin felt his eyes on her again, stripping her down to nothing as he stared at her, that slow grin returning. “Beg me for forgiveness in the morning, my daughter, and pray your brother’s faith in you is enough to prevent me from sending you back to the Fortress for the rest of your life.” 

“Of course, my Father and King,” Corrin managed, stepping forward to choke out the words, her entire body still trembling. “I will do as you command.”

His smile never faltered, and he spoke as he rose, complete confidence in his voice, “you will.” 

He turned toward Iago, the Viser muttering something in rapid agreement with his Liege before the two of them turned and left the room. Corrin’s eyes couldn’t leave him the entire time he walked, watching his furred robes brush across the floor, hearing the doors slam behind him and listening to his footsteps recede, still ever aware that she was sharing the room with corpses. 

Slowly, her eyes filled with tears, her legs losing strength as a pair of arms reached out and she found herself supported by Camilla. Her elder sister looked positively beside herself now that Father was gone, and Elise fidgeted nervously, her eyes darting between Xander and Leo as if she understood something Corrin did not.  

Xander’s clap sounded like thunder in her head, but she heard his order clearly enough -- 

Take the corpses to his own chambers and have them cleaned. 

It was only when he finished speaking with them that he turned towards her, eyes intensely focused on her face as he closed the gap between them. He didn’t speak, and his silence filled her with apprehension, unable to tell what he felt or what he was thinking by his appearance alone. 

“They’re--” she began, her trembling hands clasped by Camilla, who was rubbing calming circles into the palms with her thumbs. “They’re-- Leo, you --”

“They’re not,” Leo said, his arms crossed over his chest, “and I didn’t. You seemed fairly desperate to save these ones, so I intervened. Gods knows Camilla would never forgive me if I let you cry.”

“You’re right,” Camilla crooned, “I wouldn’t. Our dear little Corrin has been through more than enough today… We shouldn’t let her suffer over a bit of performance anxiety.” 

_ Performance anxiety.  _

Camilla said it so casually and it chilled Corrin to the bone as she realized that her siblings had been around death so long that they had grown used to it. That to them, a casual execution could be stalled because of performance anxiety, of all things. 

Slowly, Corrin pulled away, shaking her head from side to side, only to find herself with Elise wrapped around her middle. Briefly, she looked down into her little sister’s face and found understanding in her wide, violet, eyes, relief washing through Corrin as she reached out to soothe a hand over Elise’s hair. 

Releasing a shaky breath, she buried her face in the top of Elise’s head, feeling her little sister’s hold on her tighten. 

“Don’t worry,” Elise said in a resolutely cheerful voice. “Tomorrow I’ll take you to talk to Father and we can clear everything up.” 

She nodded. “Okay,” she managed, though her throat was thick with emotion. “Okay. Tomorrow, we’ll go and talk to father. We can make this better.”

She had to believe it was true, because as horrible as this entire situation was, as much as the idea of killing someone repulsed her, she would rather die than go back to the Northern Fortress to live the rest of her life in isolation. It meant she would have to kill to avoid the same thing in the future, she only hoped that… 

That by the time it happened again, she would be ready. 

Elise released her, smiling up into Corrin’s face, but her attention turned towards Xander, who was staring at them both with that same blank expression on his face. “I will need the three of you to run damage control,” Xander said, turning his full attention to Corrin. “As for you… Come with me. There are important tasks to attend to.”

He didn’t hesitate, turning around and walking away, Corrin stumbling after him as she always had in childhood. 

 

***

 

Xander’s chambers were neat and sparsely decorated which made them feel far too large for Corrin’s liking as she shifted from foot to foot. It was made worse by how quiet Xander was as he removed his gauntlets and unfastened his breastplate, leaving her standing uncomfortably in her own armor before him, feeling like a fool. 

“Remove your armor, Corrin,” he ordered as he placed his gorget upon a counter, flexing his gloved fingers. “The business we have requires stealth, and there is no man who could ever hope to be stealthy in full plate.” 

Corrin opened and closed her mouth, uncertain if he was angry with her or not, carefully removing each piece of her armor and placing it to the side. She felt bare in just her riding leathers even though she’d been similarly dressed this morning, wondering if she felt that way because she felt unprotected without it. 

Rubbing her arms, she watched as Xander moved about the room, seemingly searching for something. She tried to ignore the sight of the not-corpses laid out on the floor nearby, but their clothing was so distinct and they both looked so pale that she couldn’t quite stop her eyes from wandering every few moments, their bodies so still that she was certain they really were dead after all.

At least until Xander kneeled by them and placed a small vial of something underneath the man’s nose and he jolted up, green hair falling into frantic and frightened grey eyes… Until those eyes fell on her, and he grew calm once again. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but the hands that dragged him to his feet silenced the words before they could leave his mouth, tearing his attention from Corrin as he gazed up with shock into Xander’s face. 

“You’re--”

“Who I am to you is irrelevant,” Xander said, his voice barely more than a whisper as she shoved the vial of smelling salts into the man’s hand. “Rouse your companion. We don’t have much time.” 

Corrin could barely breathe, her eyes drifting back to Xander, who met her gaze with a small nod. Her stomach churned and her hands shook, but she turned her attention back towards the man with the green hair, watching as he calmed the woman, who looked ready to strangle everyone in the room except for her quiet companion. Her red faced rage only calmed when the man shook his head and stood, bowing towards Corrin, though the bow didn’t look quite like any bow she’d ever seen before. 

“My Princess,” he said in voice that sounded weak with fatigue, “am I to assume you’re the one responsible for our generous rescue?” 

“I…” she swallowed and shook her head. “All I did was fail to execute you. It was --”

“You really expect me to believe this sucm,” the woman shot, turning her blazing eyes towards Xander, “had anything to do with our rescue when he had his boot on my neck making me lick the tiles less than an hour ago?”

“What you believe doesn’t matter,” Xander said firmly, walking over to a wall and running his fingers over the reliefs etched into the baseboard. “Your opinion is… Completely pointless at this juncture. You should appreciate Corrin’s soft heart. Now --”

His fingers pressed against one of the rosettes, and a section of the wall slowly turned, revealing a long, dark passage lit only by the eerie light of the glowstones. She walked to Xander’s side and looked up into his face, confusion spreading across her features, some of the uncertainty she felt dispelled when his hand fell briefly onto her shoulder and he squeezed reassuringly. 

At least… 

At least he wasn’t furious with her for failing him. 

“If you want to live, you will follow us, and you will remain silent,” Xander said, gesturing towards the opening in the wall. 

Corrin watched as the man and woman exchanged glances, the woman seeming resigned at last as she nodded elbowed past them both. Taking a breath, she followed them and found her senses overwhelmed by the smell of mildew and wet stone, following Xander through the winding corridors of a series of underground tunnels she never knew existed, that Father must not know about or they wouldn’t be here now. 

It seemed to take forever, especially when she could feel grey eyes ever on her back in the darkness, remembering the strange pledge of ‘my Princess’ from the man’s lips. There was a shrewdness to his stare, and he moved more silently than the rest of them, making her wonder if maybe he were one of the semi-mystical ninja she’d heard so much about over the years from Gunter whenever he waxed poetic about the skirmishes of his youth. They were like shadows on the battlefield and could look through a man and weigh the worth of his soul with a single stare, leaving Corrin afraid she’d been found lacking, a coward who couldn’t even defend Nohr from her enemies. 

Even if it would take killing people who had done nothing to her to do it. 

She had a long time to contemplate her own shortcomings, the sound of her only breath and her bootsteps against the cobblestone filling her own head and nearly drowning out all other sound. Steeling herself, she tried to think about other things, about the meeting the next morning, about what she would say to Xander when this was all over, but her mind kept going back to what it felt like to have the leather grip of a familiar weapon slip in her hand. 

Everything she had been confident about the day before suddenly turned her stomach into a pit of acidic uncertainty, but more than anything she feared her own banishment. 

The last thing she wanted was to spend every moment until Father’s death in that abysmal Fortress, never really seeing the sky, never knowing what it was like to really live. 

She only feared such a thing made her selfish. 

Eventually, they began to ascend through the streets, coming to an iron grate that Xander managed to open relatively soundlessly, gesturing for their charges to go out into the night air. Even from here, Corrin could see the canopy of stars gleaming brilliantly, caught in an ocean of violet and indigo against black with no morning moon to obstruct their glow. They shed their light on uneven cobblestones and the ramshackle buildings cast misshapen shadows, a heavy wall visible even from the top stair, making her suspect they were on Windmire’s hauntingly quiet outskirts. 

“Go,” Xander commanded, his voice authoritative even as a whisper, “and pray we never cross paths again, Hoshidans, or I will kill you… Regardless of Lady Corrin’s wishes.” 

“You’ll regret this insult, Nhorian Scum,” the woman hissed, taking the steps two at a time before pausing just beyond the exit and looking back at them, her mouth opening and shutting before she shook her head and walked out of sight. 

“My thanks again, my Princess,” the man with the green hair said, offering her another bow, his eyes briefly flickering towards Xander, “and you as well, Crown Prince of Nohr. We were not aware you were capable of such sentimentality.” 

“There are a good many things about my people you don’t know,” Xander said, his voice holding traces of bitterness Corrin had never heard in it before. 

The man didn’t respond, casting one last glance at Corrin before he, too, disappeared into the night. Xander shut the door behind them quietly, locking it before he turned back to Corrin, monitoring for her to follow. For awhile, the two of them simply basked in the silence, Corrin dwelling on how anticlimactic such a rescue always felt, and marveling at the way everything seemed to come so effortlessly to Xander. 

Even after a speech about obedience, to do something like this…. 

“This … It won’t happen again,” Xander said, his words breaking into her thoughts and making her stumble on the stone pathway, kept upright only by the hand grasping her arm quite suddenly. “Little princess?” 

“I’m… I’m fine,” she managed, staring up into his face, pale and stern, almost otherworldly in the green-blue light of the glowstones… Like one of the Great Dragons of yore judging her for her inadequacies. 

“You’re not,” he asserted, “but this is… This is my fault. I failed to prepare you for what taking another’s life would be like. All of this is to remedy that mistake so that the consequences do not lay upon your conscience. But…” he paused, and she watched him exhale, dropping her arm to brush a strand of hair out of his eyes. “This can’t happen again, Corrin. This sort of thing is not to be done lightly, and you must learn… You must learn that to defy father has a heavy price.” 

She swallowed, searching his face, feeling her brows furrow to mirror his own. “Price?” she asked softly, her voice barely a breath. “Xander… What price?”

“We’ve put countless lives at risk through our actions. The soldiers who moved the bodies, the maids and manservants who helped clean their wounds. Every time father is defied, he will harm someone, and if he cannot blame us he _ will _ find another person to blame.” 

The words struck her, and she swallowed heavily, her hands shaking as her gaze fell and she stared at the tips of her riding boots. 

“Are all his orders like this, Xander?” she asked, her voice barely audible beneath the rushing of blood in her ears. 

“No,” Xander told her, placing his hand between her shoulder blades and guiding her forward. “Father is a … Practical man, and in time you will learn to see how he cares for Nohr.”

Corrin could not help but hear how hallow the words sounded on Xander’s lips, and felt her heart sink at the realization. 


	3. A Sea of Red and White

Elise looked grimer than usual but Corrin could tell she was still trying to smile, grasping Corrin’s hand tightly as she lead her through the castle’s maze-like corridors. That morning, she had dressed hastily in her armor with Jakob’s assistance, was fed a bland meal delivered to her courtesy of Gunter, and was rushed from the room before she’d even had the chance to fully awaken.

And now here she was, coming to a stop before a pair of ornate doors, flung open almost immediately after Elise knocked on them. Iago’s voice beckoned them inside, and Corrin took the lead, careful to keep Elise half-behind her body as they stepped into Father’s line of sight.

He sat on a large couch with a goblet of wine in hand, Iago nearby, holding a pitcher to serve Father from. His eyes slid over them both when they entered, though Father barely paid attention to them, a grin spreading across Iago’s thin lips in way of greeting as he bowed to them both, setting the pitcher down on a table.

“Ah yes, if it isn’t the cowardly little princess and our little Lady Elise,” he drawled, waving a hand dismissively. “Tell me, why are you here?”

“We don’t answer to you, Iago,” Elise said quite suddenly, brushing past Corrin to stand with her chin held high in a way that was positively Xander-like, her eyes only on King Garon. “Father, Corrin is ready for her new trial.”

It was only then that Garon’s eyes fell upon her and Corrin felt the full weight of them, dark like Xander’s, but with none of the kindness, hesitance, or concern. They were glacially cold, and right now they were looking over her like she was nothing more than carrion and he was attempting to decide whether or not she was worth consuming after all.

Slowly, his lips curled up into a smile, all teeth, and he waved his hand dismissively. “Iago, you worry too much. Did you not hear my eldest last night?” In spite of the words themselves, the tone was lazily mocking, the laughter that punctuated them even moreso, “it was his fault that she faltered. I’m sure that she’s recovered after his thorough instruction and will not fail me again. After all, she is my daughter. Incompetence is not in her blood.”

Corrin did not let him see her fear or hesitation, bowing low before him as the ice in his eyes slide down her spine and sent a shiver through her. “Tell me what it is you will, Father, and I will see fit to accomplish it.”

“At least,” Garon drawled lazily, “you have the right attitude. Rise, and know that the mercy I show you is undeserved and that the world would treat you much more harshly.”

Corrin rose, taking comfort from the feeling of Elise so close beside her, worried that if her sister weren’t here she wouldn’t be able to hold a straight face in front of Father. With Elise here, she had a reason to be strong, a reason not to fold like a piece of paper underneath her Father’s piercing gaze.

“I am yours to command,” she said, clasping her right hand over her chest in salute.

“You are,” King Garon confirmed, the smile never leaving his lips as he leaned to lounge against the arm of his seat. “There is an old fortress at the edge of the Bottomless Canyon to the east, near the top of the Spine. I require you to investigate the fortress and confirm rumors of a Hoshidan presence. This task should be simple enough for even you to accomplish.”

She breathed in sharply, about to thank him and be on her way when his clap sounded throughout the room and a man she hadn’t noticed stepped into view… Though looking at him now, she’d no idea how she hadn’t seen him considering he was massively tall and barrel chested, bald as a babe, and covered in scar tissue.

“This is Hans. I will be sending him with you to the Bottomless Canyon. Of course, you will also be accompanied by your retainers,” he said firmly, “but no one else. This mission is to be discreet and the consequences for failure will be severe. Do you understand?”

“Yes, my Lord and Father,” she said at last, bowing low one last time.

“Good. Do not fail me again,” Garon waved a hand to dismiss them. “You are dismissed.”

Corrin bowed one more time and backed away from the room, grateful when the doors closed behind her and Elise with one, final slam. For a moment she just stood there, staring straight ahead, before turning towards her youngest sister, who was looking up at her with worry on her face.

“He didn’t say when we were leaving,” Corrin finally managed.

“You’ll receive a messenger telling you the time later, dear,” came Camilla’s voice from just down the corridor, flanked by another set of footsteps… Leo. “Don’t worry yourself over nothing.”

Looking at them both, she felt herself relax, leaning into the hug that Elise gave her and pressing her face into Camilla’s shoulder when her elder sister wrapped an arm around her. For a moment, they just stayed that way, Leo looking on with a concerned expression on his pale face before he hesitantly reached out and placed a hand atop her head.

“I have to tell Jakob and Gunter,” Corrin said after a moment. “They’ll need to come with me… Help me prepare my things…”

“Well, first we should focus on saying goodbye,” Camilla said, stroking her hair. “You won’t be gone for long, but I’ll still miss you ever so much.”

“Is there a reason you’re all standing in the hall outside of Father’s chambers?”

Looking up from Camilla’s shoulder, Corrin met Xander’s eyes, smiling at him and giving him a half-hearted wave.

“Weren’t you supposed to be filling out paperwork, brother?” Leo asked, giving Xander a critical look. “Or have you decided to spend your afternoon being lazy?”

“I knew of father’s plans,” Xander said simply, “and so I made sure to clear my schedule this afternoon. What sort of brother would I be if I failed to support my siblings?”

“So it’s another rousing afternoon with big brother watching over us, is it?” Leo asked, voice teasing. “Well, I suppose we’ll just have to wait for Corrin to leave tomorrow morning before we get any privacy, otherwise you’re always breathing down our necks.”

Xander’s expression was briefly amused, but he said nothing, motioning for them all to follow as he walked away. Linking arms with Elise and Camilla, Corrin walked along behind him, falling into easy conversation with her sisters and momentarily pushing thoughts of what was to come from her mind.

“You’re going to enjoy all the festivals, dear,” Camilla said, “and you’re going to be so beautiful when we present you officially to court. I can imagine doing so many wonderful things with that thick, lovely, hair of yours.”

“Can I help this time?” Elise asked, speaking before Corrin could respond. “You always help her pick out clothes, and I think this should be a team effort.”

“This … This is assuming I even want to show up in a dress,” Corrin pointed out, flinching at Camilla’s scandalized look. “What if I want to wear formal armor or… Or something that fits who I am better? I should be presented to court in the role I’ll play, and I’m not much of a Lady, let’s be honest.”

“But you need to impress them!” Camilla explained, practically pouting.

“And she can’t do that in armor?” Leo asked, arching his brow as he walked along beside them. “She’s not exactly much like you or Elise, in that regard. If she wants to show herself off as an intimidating warrior, I, for one, think she should be allowed to do so…” He smiled from one half of his mouth, “even if she’s more brawn than brains.”

“I resent that statement,” Corrin declared, wishing she had a hand available to hit him with. “Maybe I’ll just go and push you into the moat.”

“You’d have to be able to catch me, first.”

She stuck her tongue out at him, earning herself Xander’s laughter as he glanced over his shoulder at them, an amused expression on his face, “you’re both quite adorable.”

“You stay out of this. You’re the one who corrupted her in the first place and turned her into a stick-swinging blockhead,” Leo sneered playfully. “We all know I’m the brains in this family.”

“Which is what makes you so cute,” Camilla cooed, reaching out to pinch his cheek as Elise laughed loudly, leaning into Corrin’s shoulder to better watch Leo try to furiously swat Camilla's hand away.

Watching them, Corrin felt the same sense of peace she’d felt her last night at the Northern Fortress. They were a family, a wonderful, complex, sometimes difficult family, and as long as she trusted them to always love her, to always watch her back, she would soon find her place here.

Afterall, it didn’t seem like she was the only one afraid of Father, and she finally understood why discussing him had always been a taboo topic during their visits.

The thought of killing still made her sick, but…

But Xander was right, wasn’t he?

She was just going to have to get over it.

“Behave, children,” Xander chided fondly, “or do you want to reflect poorly upon the royal family? All the servants are judging us.”

“Was that a joke?” Leo asked incredulously. “What happened to you? What did you do to my brother?”

“I’m not on duty,” Xander said simply, opening the door to the kitchens once more, Corrin barely realizing they’d traveled this far until just this moment. “Now, I’m going to turn a blind eye to Camilla happening to raid the pantry and cellar for a few of our finer goods. If you meet me in the Northern Courtyard in a half hour, we can have a picnic before Corrin leaves.” His eyes darted to Elise, who looked as though she were seeing a ghost as she stared back at him. “If that’s amenable to you,” he added quickly.

Camilla looked between Xander and Corrin, grabbed Leo and Elise’s hands, and pulled them with her into the kitchen. “Don’t worry, dear, we’ll remember to select some of that sausage I know you do so enjoy,” she said, winking at Xander as she passed. “I know better than to squander one of your rare, good moods.”

She stood on her toes and kissed him on the cheek before pushing Leo and Elise fully into the kitchen, the door shutting behind her when Xander released it, perhaps partially in shock. He and Corrin simply stared at one another for a long moment before his expression cleared and his eyes focused on her, brows furrowing more deeply than usual. “Am I truly that dour?”

“You kind of are, yeah,” Corrin said, reaching out to take his arm. “You’ll have to escort me to the Northern Courtyard, I’m afraid. I have no idea where I’m going.”

Xander nodded and the two of them began to walk along.

He lapsed into silence, the two of them walking side by side for some time before he spoke, his voice low enough that she was certain he didn’t intend to be heard. “You’re very fortunate. I’m relieved that you’ve gotten out of this relatively unscathed, of course, but…” he breathed out, and she could tell he was thinking. “But… Ah… I’m grateful, regardless, and I have faith in your ability.”

She smiled down at her feet before looking up into his face, finding him staring back at her at a fond expression in the depths of his eyes. “Thank you,” she muttered softly, “it means a lot, coming from you.”

They shared a small smile before he turned his head forward once more. “Tell me,” he began, “what are your plans for your mission to the Bottomless Canyon?”

To move the conversation on and distract from the strange sense of intimacy this conversation had hung over her shoulders, she gladly answered his questions, looking forward to her last day with her siblings before the first mission that would mark the start of the rest of her life.

 

\---

 

“Are you certain this is the path we should take, Lady Corrin?” Jakob asked warily, an arm wrapped around her waist as he looked out at the craggy, barren landscape around them -- the source of the Blight that had started Nohr’s decline, said legends. “There’s a great many places for Hoshidan spies to take cover.”

“That’s the point,” Corrin said, holding the reigns of her gelding more tightly, glancing to Gunter at her left and Hans at her right. “If there are Hoshidans haunting this old fort, we’ll want to draw them out into the light.”

“They won’t come easily, milady,” Gunter said conversationally, “but you’re correct. Learn to respect the chain of command, boy.”

“He has my permission to speak freely,” Corrin interjected, her brow furrowed as she navigated the difficult terrain ahead, Lancelot growing restless underneath her, though he was well-mannered enough to keep going. “Jakob is my personal manservant and retainer, and I trust his judgement.”

She could feel Jakob tense at her words, could practically imagine the blush on his face, though Gunter only grunted in acknowledgement, Hans laughing raccuosly enough that the noise bounced off the cliffs and disturbed some nesting carrion birds. Sighing heavily, Corrin pulled ahead of the both, brushing Lancelot’s mane with one of her hands as she focused her hands squarely on the horizon.

“They’re driving me half-mad,” she muttered to Jakob under her breath. “When Hans isn’t making crass jokes, he’s trying to start fights with Gunter, and when Gunter isn’t arguing back in the most mild-mannered way imaginable, he’s criticising everything you do. These past days couldn’t feel any longer if I wanted them to.”

“Why would you want them to, exactly?” Jakob asked, and though she couldn’t see him, she could practically feel his caustic grin in the general direction of the other riders.

“To spend more time with you, of course,” she said with a laugh, imagining already the blush on his face, endearing as always… Her closest and only real friend, the one who didn’t feel like he was just her servant. “No, Jakob, it’s clearly the scenery. Look at it all. Isn’t it wonderful? So… dreary and barren.”

“I hardly know what you expected to find,” Jakob said lightly. “This is what the outside world has been like for as long as I can remember.”

“There are forests to the east and south,” Corrin said, “and then beyond that there’s farmland. I’ve studied the maps. I know my geography.”

“And even those are bleak and dreary,” Jakob said as they began to cross a wide, wooden bridge across the canyon, both of them resolutely refusing to look down. “The Blight has always gone to Nohr’s borders and then mysteriously stopped. Even now, Cyrkensia and Cheve remain untouched, though they’ve long since fallen under Nohr’s influence.”

“I thought Cyrkensia was officially free?” Corrin asked, noting the fortress as it came into view, massive, old, and of Hoshidan construction.

“It is, but they remain free only so long as they provide entertainment and escape for Nohr’s nobility,” Jakob explained. “Without their tourism industry, they’d be taken for the resources, as well.”

Corrin didn’t know how to respond to that, silently staring as the faded red and grey of the weathered fortress became apparent, even against the dark sky. The earth here seemed to thrum with power and it left Lancelot restless, the horse huffing nervously as they crossed the bridge and found themselves on solid ground once more. Knowing that she could take him no farther, she quickly dismounted, tying his reins to the petrified remains of a tree before she turned to help Jakob down.

They were quiet until Hans and Gunter joined them, Then, Corrin crept  towards the ridge that blocked their view of the other side of the canyon, carefully peering from around it only to see shapes moving along the other edge of the bridge. Sucking in a breath, she spun back around, pressing her finger to her lips and shaking her head as she looked again, this time carefully observing their armor and their style of dress.

From the large, billowing pants, the white that stood out against the darkness, to the curvature of their spears and bows, Corrin immediately knew what they were dealing with. Heart caught in her throat, she pressed herself flat against the stone ridge, ducking completely out of view as she brought her hand to her chest.

_Shit._

“Hoshidans,” she hissed. “An entire fortress of them. We-- We need to hurry back, report this to Father. They’re so close. How… How the hell did they get over the border?”

What were they planning? Her mind was racing with so many possibilities that she didn’t notice Hans hefting his axe shaft over his shoulder and sauntering over to the bridge, was more distracted by Jakob suddenly taking up her entire field of vision to place a hand on her shoulder. Hoshido was here, on Nohr’s backdoor, only a short journey from the heart of Windmire itself. The thought was enough to make her heart turn as cold as the winds in Felicia’s and Flora’s homeland as she grasped the soft fabric of Jakob’s shirt, the sound of footsteps on a rickety bridge drawing her attention back to the present.

“Hans?” she asked, her voice shaking as she pulled away from Jakob, who still hovered at her side. “What-- what are you --”

But it was too late.

She could already see him, a quarter of the way onto the bridge, the sound of a horn echoing through the canyon as she took a step back, fumbling for the sword at her side. This… This wasn’t good.

In fact, this was horrible.

“Jakob?” She managed, her throat barely allowing her to speak, it was so tight. “Gunter?”

“What is that fool doing!?” Jakob demanded, though she could see him reaching down to the holster sewn into his pants, grasping the handle of his knife tightly in his gauntlets.

Neither she nor Gunter, his worn and aged face drawn into a furious expression, were afforded the time to answer when Hans’ cry filled the entire canyon.

“Hoshidans!!!” More carrion birds were disturbed from the shadow of the fortress, sent screeching into the night, dark blurs against the moon. “Come out and face us, you cowardly bastards! Or are you too dainty to wet your weapons in blood?”

There was no concrete response, only Hans’ laughter as he encroached into Hoshidan territory, taunting them. “Come on! Is one little Nohrian force too much for you!? Let me blade taste your pain! Let me hear you scream for me! I’m waiting, you stupid bastards!”

“We have to stage a retreat,” Gunter said sternly. “If that idiot wishes to get himself killed, so be it -- But this… This isn’t survivable. We’re four people, not an army!”

“Are we certain they haven’t began to move to block our retreat?” Jakob asked, his eyes frozen on Hans on the bridge, watching as the Hoshidans advanced on him and Hans hit two men off the inside, sending them careening into the Canyon below.

“I don’t trust them not to have flanked us,” Gunter admitted reluctantly, “but attempting to slip through their lines is our best bet in this situation. We can’t survive direct confrontation.”

Corrin’s grip on her blade tightened before she finally scoffed, freeing it from its sheath as she stared out at the battle on the bridge. There wasn’t much they could do here, to be honest, but her mind kept going back to one question, even when the rest of her mind scattered against the desperation of the situation.

What would Xander do?

“We need to find a different way back,” she said suddenly. “We can’t go back the way we came. They were certain to have scouts and it won’t be safe, and the information we have has to make it back to Windmire intact.”

She glanced towards Lancelot sadly, and then walked over and untied him from the tree, stroking his mane for a moment before she took a deep breath. He seemed to know that she was distressed, and she swallowed thickly as she pulled away, looking over her shoulder towards Jakob and Gunter.

“We can’t take the horses. They’re too easy to spot. It will have to be by foot.”

“By foot, milady?” Jakob asked, his fair brow furrowed in concern. “Are you certain? The journey is long, and we’d have to stretch our supplies…”

“Yes,” she said, drawing in a shuddering breath, resolute, watching as the men who’d made it past Hans started to grow nearer. “It’s our only real choice at this point, Jakob. I didn’t come here just to fail my mission again. I… I can’t fail my mission again.”

She looked towards him, pleading, as she dropped her hand from Lancelot’s mane, holding her chin high and swallowing hard. The sounds of the fight echoed in the Canyon around her, and she knew for certain that she’d have to fight to get out of here alive.

“I _can’t_ go back to the Northern Fortress.”

Jakob looked at her, let out an uneven breath, and then nodded.

“No,’ he agreed in a soft voice, “you can’t.”

“What are you two waiting for?” Gunter’s voice suddenly cut through their thoughts, Corrin watching as he mounted, a horrible feeling of dread filling her. “You need to escape, so quit dallying!”

“Gunter--” She began, reaching out to touch him, though she quickly dropped her hand to her side.

“Don’t argue with me. Someone has to go back for that idiot, and it might as well be the only one of us who has a chance of surviving these odds,” said the old man with a snort, tossing his head as he guided his old warhorse to look out towards the bridge. “You don’t have any time left, so get out of her.”

Looking towards Jakob, an understanding passing between them, she turned her eyes back towards Gunter and nodded. “May the Ancient Dragons guard your steps,” she said with a bow before turning around, her eyes falling on a second bridge as Jakob grabbed what supplies he could carry and the two of them set out.

They moved as quickly as they could, the sounds of battle following them, bouncing off the walls of the Canyon. Corrin set her jaw, trying not to think about what she was leaving Gunter to face on his own, focusing instead on what she had to do in this situation and how to best get out of it alive as they crossed the bridge to another small plateau.

Already, she could see winged shapes in the distance approaching them at speed, realizing that they were being rushed by Air Knights. She took a deep breath, glancing in every direction before shaking her head and standing her ground knowing in her gut that it would be better to fight them on this solid land than risk fighting them over another bridge.

Staring upwards, she took a deep breath and readied herself, certain that this time she would be able to do what she had to do -- that she could do the necessary thing.

“Jakob--”

“I’m already with you, milady!” he said, the sound of his heels digging into the ground what she heard as the beating of the wings grew louder.

Crying out, she swung her blade at the ankles of the pegasi as they grew closer, watching as they pulled away while she tried to get a feeling for how to fight them. They moved like air, dancing around the two of them featherlight, only getting close enough to be struck when they’d dive in for an attack.

If only she’d trained as an archer.

Taking a breath as she dodged, Corrin decided to take a chance when one of the Knights came close to Jakob, charging the man atop the winged horse. Using all her strength, she leaped into the air, coming down on him with a slash across his spear arm, listening to the sickening sounds of metal tearing cloth and flesh. Gritting her teeth as she came down on the ground, the shock of the fall traveling to her knees, she spun around to the man’s scream.

Eyes wide, she watched as a bright blade lodged itself in his throat and he came toppling from his mouth.

“Keep your eyes open, Lady Corrin!” Jakob shouted, Corrin swallowing past the sudden lump that had formed in her throat to turn on another of her enemies., willing the tremor in her hands to stop.

The battle raged on, Corrin exhausted and spattered with blood by the time it was over, her hands shaking around the leather hilt of her blade. Xander would be proud of her, she thought, but she couldn’t bring herself to feel the same, not after seeing what she had done and thinking about the families whose lives she had ruined through her actions. Tears burning in her eyes as she wiped her blade clean to stop it from rusting as she placed it back in her sheath, she quickly began to move across the bridge, Jakob on her heels.

She could tell he wanted to stop, wanted to ask her if she were okay, but…

But he knew now wasn’t the time.

Jakob knew they both had to somehow make it back to Windmire in one piece, which mean saving this all for later… He breakdown, him comforting her, telling her that it was okay and that she was brave for facing this for so long. She’d revel in it when it happened, but for now she just pushed the thoughts away, raising her head as she stubbornly walked across the rickety bridge.

They’d barely stepped onto the other side when a blade was in the ground before her and a shape was materializing from the darkness.

“Running away from the scene of the crime, Nohrian dogs?” a rough voice asked. “I thought you bit harder!”

Corrin took a step back, Jakob placing a steadying hand on her arm as he stepped in between her and the shape, his profile glowing furiously in the moonlight, bloodstained silver hair making him look like a wraith. She’d always feared the wraiths in her childhood stories, beings who reaped the souls of the unjust to take them to the afterlife, where they would forever wail and struggle against their burning chains.

“You dare to strike Lady Corrin?” he demanded, his eyes focusing on the form of the man that had appeared before them, a single good eye staring out at them from a scarred and masked face. “I’ll slit your throat for this, you blackguard!”

The man laughed, his eye darting towards Corrin, who glared at him as she reached once more for her blade. “Don’t force our hand,” she said, keeping her voice as steady as possible. “This wasn’t our doing -- our companion acted against order, he --!”

“Enough excuses. You’ve trespassed on Hoshidan territory,” the man sneered in a mockery of the truth. “My Lord Ryoma will make you pay for your insolence when he arrives with reinforcements!”

Lord … Ryoma?

Corrin’s brow furrowed, her stomach twisting inside of her as she struggled to place where she’d heard the name before. It was… so familiar, huanting, like something out of a nightmare. Shaking her head to dispel it of the thoughts, she reluctantly drew her blade, leveling it at the man - the _ninja_ \- as she stepped to Jakob’s side.

“Says the thief to the man he’s stolen from,” she said, her voice shaking in spite of her best efforts. “Now stand down!”

The man just barked a laugh, another metal object flying out of nowhere to strike Corrin’s shoulder. Crying out, she clutched at it, feeling the blood pouring down the chink in her light riding armor, reminding her keenly that this was only supposed to be a scouting mission. They weren’t supposed to get into this kind of fight, and no one could have possibly known that it would come to this.

Tears stinging her eyes she stumbled back into Jakob, barely aware that she had mistaken the sound of hoofbeats for the pounding of her heart until a dark shape vaulted past her, a blur of deep violet and black. There was a shout, a deep warcry that resonated from every nook in the Canyon, as the shape placed itself firmly between Corrin, Jakob, and the man, the sound of metal clashing and a groan of pain filling her ears.

“Corrin!”

A familiar voice set her head spinning and she turned about, watching Leo and Elise galloping towards her, Camilla’s wyvern swooping through the air gracefully behind them. Tears freely streaming down her face, she choked back a grateful sob and snapped her attention back to the dark shape, finally recognizing Xander’s familiar back. In his hand, Siegfried glowed with a mysterious black and red light that shifted to violet in places, his gauntlet clutching the hilt tightly.

“It seems we were just in time,” he said, though he did not turn his head towards her. “Jakob -- Take Corrin from here. We will follow you once we deal with things here.”

“Of course,” Jakob said, gently tugging on her arm just as her siblings passed her, one at a time, Elise waving and winking as she passed.

Stumbling backwards, Corrin followed Jakob, stumbling once or twice over the planks and on the ground on her way back from where they’d just come. All around her, she could see Nohrian troops engaging the Hoshidan ones, the sounds of battle rising into the dark sky, the smell of death and dying clinging to her, eyes still watering as tears streamed down her face. She shook, dropping her blade on the ground when something hit her hard in the side and knocked the wind out of her, sending her stumbling into the dirt.

Looking up, her eyes wide, she watched as a hefty Hoshidan woman swung a club at her, the blow narrowly blocked by Jakob, whose grieves dug into the ground. “Run!” he shouted. “You don’t have to worry about me! Just run!”

She knew she couldn’t afford to hesitate, but at this point she could barely see. Scrambling to her feet, she ran across the other bridge as quickly as her legs would carry her, having faith that everyone she loved would survive. She would interrogate them all about this later, about how Xander had known she’d needed him, about how -- How Jakob’s fight had gone… And Gunter… She would ask Gunter if he had managed to knock Hans back to his senses.

Corrin ran so quickly the world around her seemed to vanish, stopping only when her lungs burned, bracing herself against a tree and looking up towards the quickly setting moon. Behind her, she could still hear the sounds of combat, occasionally catching the shouts of voices she recognized over the usual din.  

Shaking and alone, without a weapon, she felt all her fight run out of her body, the pain in her shoulder finally catching up with her. Slowly, she sunk to the ground, pressing her back against the tree and wrapping her arms around her torso, listening to the sound of her own heartbeat. For a moment she just stayed there, trying to bring herself under control and wondering what she should do now.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of footsteps racing up the path towards her.

Pushing herself back to her feet, she stood her ground, watching as a terrified Nohrian soldier raced towards her, his blade clutched in his hand. Corrin took a step forward, ready to do… something, anything to help him, only to watch a strike of bright white lightning race down from the heavens, searing his flesh and sending him crumpling to the ground in a smoldering pile. No magic she had ever seen had ever done anything like that, not even magic written across the pages of any of Leo’s tomes.

She let out a cry, slapping her good hand over her mouth too late, watching a shadow jump from the low cliffside nearby, moving with terrifying grace and velocity. Slowly, the too-tall to be any Hoshidan she had ever seen stepped from the darkness, revealing a man in bright red and white armor, his headplate making him look like some kind of sea monster, staring at her with curious stormy green eyes. More terrifying was the long, curved blade at his side, bright white and unsheathed, golden embellishments winding their way up the weapon as it crackled and sang with electricity.

He took a step forward and she stepped back, realizing too late that he’d backed her into a tree. Slowly, he leaned towards her, reaching out with a hand to touch her, his gloved hand cupping her face with surprising gentleness as his eyes grew wide in what she might have called recognition had she known for certain that she had no idea who the hell this Hoshidan was.

“Kamui,” he breathed, his voice wavering with an emotion that sounded far too much like relief for her comfort.

Head whipping about at the sound of racing hoofbeats, she watched his eyes narrow and his face slowly transform into a snarl, gaze snapping back towards her as he shook his head quickly. His hand moved from her face to her wrist, sharp gaze falling to her arm before he looked back up into her face, regret tangling his features into knots.

Just like that, he seemed to come to a decision, his mane of nearly black hair shimmering in the moonlight as he shook his head one last time.

“Forgive me, Kamui,” he said as a shock raced through her body and the world was consumed by black, a sea of red and white the last thing she saw before she lost consciousness.


	4. A Facceless Threat

Her arm was bandaged, she realized as she sat up, too low to be in a bed. Above her, the canopy of a tent extended, white, sunlight filtering through the heavy fabric and hurting her eyes as she rolled over, freezing when she saw a familiar man sitting at a low table with a cup of tea in his large hands. 

He looked smaller without his armor, but his hair was unmistakable, a tangled mane of nearly black hair, perhaps more red than she had thought now that she was seeing it in daylight. That thought caused her stomach to do flips as she realized it meant they had crossed the border, that she was with the Hoshidans and that… 

That her wound had been cared for. 

Swallowing thickly, she sat up, the man’s eyes immediately sliding towards her, attentive and kind as they hadn’t been the night before. They had softened, and a small but reserved smile crossed his lips as he rose and walked towards her, sinking to his knees at her side as he reached out to touch her forehead gently with the back of his hand. 

“Your fever has broken,” he said, sounding relieved. “Excellent. Queen Mikoto would never forgive me if I brought you back worse for the wear.” 

“Queen Mikoto?” Corrin asked, drawing the blankets around her body, staring into his face only to watch his brow crease in concern. “What would the ruler of Hoshido want with me? I”m... “ She was going to say ‘no one’, but that wasn’t really true, so instead she bowed her head and took a deep breath, starting over. “I don’t understand why you’re being kind to me. Don’t you know who I am?” 

The man looked at her, his face mournful as his hand feel away from her head. She watched as his fists balled in his lap and he seemed to be restraining himself, holding back the full extent of his feelings, bronze knuckles turning pale with strain. 

It made her feel uncomfortable, like she was missing something entirely, a secret hanging between them that only he was privy to. 

Slowly, he sucked in a breath and placed a hand to his chest, reaching out with his other hand to cover one of her hands. “Kamui,” he said quietly, “I know you don’t remember me, but…” His lips twitched up into a small smile, the storm in his eyes clearing again, “it’s me, Ryoma, your older brother.” 

Corrin drew her hand away, her mouth falling open as she stared at him, the words not quite coming out of her mouth. Brother? No -- Her older brother was -- 

She shook her head, picturing Xander and how  _ angry _ he must be right now, not at her, but… 

Gods, if they were over the border, they couldn’t come rescue her.

The Barrier… 

Her hands shook and panic began to set in as the reality of her situation finally dawned on her.

“No. You’re not. I have a brother. He’s back in Nohr with the rest of my family. What… What are you…”

His hand chased her, holding on tightly in spite of how she tried to move away, grip almost desperate somehow. Looking into his face, she could see his sincerity in the way he looked at her, and that alone terrified her, her entire body trembling in spite of her best efforts to rely on her training and reign in her responses. 

She wasn’t Xander.

“Kamui--” he began, but she shook her head, cutting him off. 

“Corrin,” she said firmly. “My name. It’s Corrin.” 

“Corrin,” he repeated, though he didn’t seem to like it very much. “Corrin, whatever happened to you in Nohr, whatever you’ve forgotten, you were born in Hoshido.” Gently, he squeezed her hand, though he didn’t get any closer, something for which she was grateful. “Your mother -- My step-mother -- has been searching for you ever since the day our father was murdered and you were taken away to Nohr.”

“Nohr took me?” she asked, her throat growing tight as she rubbed her other hand over her face. “I… I mean I already knew that. Father killed mother and saved me from her so that I didn’t become a token that the Royal Family of Hoshido could use against him, his half-Hoshidan bastard child.” 

Ryoma grunted, bowing his head and squeezing his eyes shut. When he opened them again his face was soft, dropping his hand as he reached out to touch her face instead, gentle as could be, “no,” he said. “You were taken, but no woman of Hoshido would deign to lay with the Monstrous King Garon. Our father was King Sumeragi, and you are a Princess of Hoshido.” 

Her mouth fell open and she stared at him, the sincerity in his voice stilling any objection she might have. Swallowing, tears brimming in her eyes, she shook her head, knowing in her heart he was telling the truth, but.. 

But… 

Camilla, Leo, Elise… 

And Xander. 

“I don’t remember you,” she said, placing her hand over his. “If Queen Mikoto is my mother, I don’t remember her, either.”

“In time… you might,” he said as he drew his hand away, his face filled with resolve. “Eat with me?”

She nodded and rose from where she was seated, noticing for the first time that she was dressed in Hoshidan garb. Feeling foolish, she walked to the small table with him, sitting down awkwardly on the opposite side, noticing the bowl of rice and the egg, figuring that he expected her to crack it over the rice. 

Swallowing thickly, she took a deep breath and then did just that, stirring it slowly with the two sticks in front of her. She felt… wrong without a fork and a knife or any kind of chair to sit on, feeling awkward in his presence. He presumably had years of memories and she did too, just… Not of him 

“So you kidnapped me,” she said. “You were the man on the battlefield with the sword that spits white lightning.” 

“Raijinto,” he said, “my Divine Blade, and we didn’t kidnap you, Corrin, we rescued you. You’re returning home, though I… I know it might not feel that way after being captive for so long.”

She frowned, looking into his face, incredulous, before she snapped her mouth back shut. It wasn’t like he was the first Hoshidan she’d met, and if she were such a big deal over the Spine in the East, then… Well… Wouldn’t people know about her? And with an outpost so close… 

“So when the man with green hair called me Princess…” she began, trailing off. 

“It’s because you’re my sister,” he said simply, “and the daughter of the Queen.”

She took a deep breath, absently beginning to eat, her mind drifting elsewhere as she stared down at the table in front of her. Corrin couldn’t quite bring herself to meet his eyes, though he could feel him staring at her, carefully assessing her, drinking in her features eagerly in a way that made her feel entirely self-conscious. 

“You look like Queen Mikoto,” he said at last as he shifted, placing his bowl on the table with the soft click of wood against wood. “You have her mouth, her hair… The shape of her face. Even without Kaze’s report, I might have known when I saw you, a lone woman on the battlefield looking so frightened and unprepared for what was happening around her. You’re clearly not a warrior, not a tested one, anyway.”

“I killed Sky Knights,” she said suddenly, eyes snapping up to meet his, something inside of her burning at the thought that she wasn’t skilled with her blade. “I fought in that battle, even if it wasn’t supposed to be one.” 

“All of that can be forgiven,” he said simply. “You’re untested, and you were under the enemy’s influence. No one could blame you for doing what you had to do to keep yourself safe under their watchful eye.” 

“No, I mean --” she placed her bowl down, too, running a hand over her face in frustration. “It wasn’t on purpose. I was the one leading the scouting mission that turned into that battle, and we were just supposed to report on the status of the fortress. This is my fault because I couldn’t control all of my troops, so it’s not --” 

She took a breath, looking back to the table, staring at the grain rather than meet his face. “I didn’t want to kill anyone, but I still did, you know. Because I’m Nohrian, and because protecting Nohr is important to me.”

He sighed heavily and she looked up, watching him run a hand through his hair in frustration, conflict warring on his features before he bowed his head. “That attitude alone isn’t particularly Nohrian,” he said, “but I know you don’t have the context to understand how they’ve fought this war against us. If you’d like… I can show you.” 

Corrin furrowed her brow, opening and closing her mouth before nodding. What else could she really do? She felt he would force the point if she didn’t agree and maybe… Maybe by looking around she could find a way out, at least to get back to the border. She knew that her siblings would never abandon her here in Hoshido. 

Besides, it was true that she really didn’t know much about how the war was actually fought. 

Especially here, in the Light. 

“Then I’ll have your armor prepared and the Nohrian clothing that you came in patched enough for you to go out onto the field,” he said simply. “In the meantime… I thought…” he motioned to something in the corner of the room, some sort of game board, from the looks of it. “Would you like to relearn shogi? I’d like … I’d like to hear more about you.” 

It was the first truly brotherly thing he’d said so far, and she remembered the hand on her face, heavy and warm. If he was telling the truth, and she was almost certain he was, then Corrin might as well make the most of this situation while she had the chance.

Especially if it helped her understand why this war was happening in the first place. 

“Okay,” she said, smiling ever so slightly,” just promise me you won’t make a face like you’ve smelled a spoiled egg if I say something you don’t like again.” 

He laughed and shook his head, “you know I can’t make that promise. I have an obligation as the High Prince to make faces about anything Nohrian. Now let me set us up while you finish eating…”

She watched him bustle about and wondered if that statement extended to her or if she was immune just because they shared a parent. 

\---

The march to the battlefield the next day seemed especially long when she had barely slept the night before and people stared at her like she had died and come back from the dead. Her night had been plagued with dreams, first of her Nohrian siblings suffering and dying in the Bottomless Canyon, then of Gunter and Jakob being broken by Hoshidans interrogating them through torture, and then of the Lions, who had ruined her night by trying to tear out one another’s throats. 

It didn’t help when the Black Lion had kept looking at her pleadingly every time the White Lion would lunge at him, teeth and claws barred. She’d felt bad that she couldn’t do anything, that she’d been left alone in nothing but her nightclothes in a massive field, watching everything that was happening but unable to intervene. They were both so determined to protect her from the other, but neither of them were a threat to her, and that tragedy had played out again and again, feline shapes dancing behind her eyes nearly every time she’d closed them. 

It was when the sun was at its Zenith that they finally reached the battlefield… Or what was left of it, a smoldering village with civilian and soldier corpses lying together on the ground. Most of them looked like they had been gored to death by animals, their blood staining the snowy ground, and in spite of how sick it made Corrin, she found she couldn’t look away. 

“What happened here?” she whispered, looking at Ryoma, who stared back at her with furious eyes for half a second, his hair blowing in the chill breeze. 

“Faceless,” he said, and then set off, motioning for her to follow. 

Corrin swallowed, jogging after him, her hand tightening on the hilt of the curved sword he’d given to her this morning after his retainer - Kagero - had helped dress her. In the distance she could hear the sounds of combat and… something else, guttural growls that couldn’t possibly be human echoing over the gently sloping hills. 

When Ryoma sprinted away, she followed, reaching the crest of a hill and looking down into a valley, where the few remaining Hoshidan soldiers were fighting shambling amalgams of what looked to be decaying human flesh. Feeling sick to her stomach, she looked on, exchanging a brief look with Ryoma as he loosed his Raijinto from its sheath and charged forward with the same grace she’d witnessed at the Canyon. 

Taking a deep breath, she charged after him, letting out a shout as she brought her blade to bear on one of the nearest enemies. Quickly, Corrin fell into a rhythm, dodging, docking, and weaving, grateful that these being’s incredible size made them so slow. Unfortunately, it also made them pretty difficult to take down, though apparently not for Ryoma, who cut through them with his Raijinto like they were made of butter. 

At one point, she found herself fighting back to back with the green-haired man she had spared as he deflected a blow for her. They exchanged a brief glance but nothing more, turning to cut down another faceless together, his blades stunning it while she managed to cut it open, watching it dissolve into dark waves of arcane energy. 

How long they fought, she didn’t know, but by the time the battle drew to a close her black hair was clinging to her forehead. All these Faceless had been dispatched, but there were no cheers as a woman who had been swooping over the battlefield on her pegasus dismounted and ran to Ryoma, stopping just short of embracing him.

Instead, she bowed low and then reached out, placing a hand on his arm. 

“You got my message,” she said, sounding relieved. 

“I came as soon as I could, but…” he looked around, voice loud and carrying over the battlefield. “Are there any civilian survivors?” 

Her face fell and her eyes quickly flickered towards the pink haired girl jogging towards them from the opposite side of the battlefield, something that looked like a stave grasped tightly in her hands. Corrin hesitated for a moment before stepping closer, her eyes caught by the mounted warrior woman’s bright red hair, still gripping her sword in hand. 

“No,” the woman said after a moment, brusquely. “We were able to rescue some of our own soldiers, but the bastards wiped out another village. Damn them.”

Ryoma’s hand fell on her shoulder and they shared a long look, one of solidarity, before she pulled away and he turned to the pink haired girl. She looked devastated, and when he walked over to her he placed both of his hands on her shoulders before moving his hands to gently cup her face. 

“I’m so sorry, Sakura,” he muttered as he gently wiped away her tears in a gesture of genuinely brotherly affection before he turned his eyes towards her. “Corrin, I’d like to introduce you to someone.” 

She cleared her throat, stepping forward and mirroring the bowing, her face flushed as she realized that these two must be his sisters. Clenching her fists at her side, she straightened, looking towards Ryoma as she wondered if was his intention to keep her constantly supervised and occupied so that she didn’t have any chances to try and sneak off on her own. 

But… That might just be her Nohrian Paranoia speaking. 

She’d never known a person her entire life, aside from Elise, who didn’t think the same way. 

“Thank you,” she said. “I’m High Prince Ryoma’s gues--”

“Kamui!” the red haired woman practically shouted, and immediately Corrin found herself in a tight embrace, her shoulder suddenly soaked with tears. “O-oh gods. I’m sorry… It’s just been so long…”

“It’s…” Corrin managed, awkwardly patting the woman’s shoulder, “it’s okay. I’m… I’m sorry. I don’t remember … I mean… I…” 

“Hinoka,” Ryoma said firmly, and the woman backed away, her face stricken, orange-red eyes filled with tears. 

Rubbing at her face, she let out a laugh - though not a particularly happy one - and looked towards Ryoma. “What did those dogs do to her? How -- Ryoma -- Her memories --”

“Might come back,” Ryoma said softly, reaching out to place a hand on the pink haired girl’s shoulder. “Sakura,” he gestured to Corrin, “this is Kamui. She goes by Corrin now, after… After Nohr.” 

“Big Sister?” the young woman - Sakura - asked, taking a step forward. “C-can I….? Uh… Hug you?”

There was something so sincere about her, so gentle, that Corrin opened her arms as Sakura demurely stepped foward and quickly ducked her head, burying her face in Corrin’s chest. Hesitating, Corrin reached out, gently placing her hand on the back of Sakura’s head and clearing her throat, “it’s … Nice to meet you.” 

She felt Sakura nod against her chest, “y-eah. It’s… Nice. Th-thank you, Corrin.” 

She quickly pulled away, blushing and looking at her feet as she walked slowly backwards towards Ryoma. It was the first time Corrin had felt a surge of affection towards one of the Hoshidan royals, but she suspected that Sakura was just the sort of person that it was difficult to hate, as sweet and anxious as she seemed to be. 

“You’re welcome,” Corrin said with a small smile, looking towards Hinoka and Ryoma briefly. “We… We should probably not stand around the battlefield, talking. I don’t think this is the place for this.” 

“I agree,” Ryoma said. “We should head back to base camp and discuss the Faceless there. There’s a lot to talk about,” he continued, voice firm, “and I think it’s best if we do it as a family.” 

She felt her ears burn at the words and set her jaw, nodding firmly as she turned around, setting back off towards base camp. In truth she needed time alone, but she could feel Hinoka’s stare burning into her back, indignant and disbelieving, and she knew that she wouldn’t get it. These people weren’t like her actual siblings, they didn’t know that sometimes people just… needed time alone, or that she felt like a prisoner, and if she told them --

If she told them, they would just… Tell her that it was all Nohr’s fault. 

Speeding up, she felt tears stinging her eyes, but she refused to reach up to touch her face. Corrin wouldn’t do anything to let them know how distressed she was, how horribly she missed people who could tell when she was upset just by the way she was standing. She missed the way Camilla would hold her and stroke her hair, missed Elise’s aggressive attempts at distraction, missed Leo’s way of getting her to focus on anything else by forcing her attentions elsewhere, and … 

And she missed Xander.

She missed the way he’d run her through the motions of her swings, of the way conversations seemed to melt into the background and how they could just  **_be_ ** together when they were training. 

It hadn’t even been two days, and Corrin just wanted to go home. 

And now, what? She was just supposed to wait for an explanation that would miraculously make her hate Nohr? It’s not like she didn’t already understand that Nohr was aggressive and powerful, that warfare was its greatest industry. She had grown up there! It was her home for as long as she could remember! And if she could only remember things from the time she was eight years old and onward?

So be it. 

“Kamui!”

At the voice she spun around without thinking, watching as Ryoma and Hinoka, atop the pegasi, looked taken aback by the tears streaming down her face. Setting her jaw and channeling Xander the way Elise had in front of Father, she swallowed and held her chin high, staring at the both of them for a moment longer before she snapped her head back around and marched away from them. 

She had to make the best she could of a bad situation, she told herself. 

It was the only thing she could do. 

So then why did their stricken faces keep dancing around her mind? 

\---

As it turned out “when we return to base camp” meant “after everyone is clean and I’ve issued orders to the rest of the army about our march to Shirasagi to meet the Queen”. That gave Corrin plenty of time to aggressively avoid Hinoka, who kept trying to get her attention and speak with her, and even more time to wish for a cup of Jakob’s tea to warm her insides and calm her nerves. It wasn’t anywhere nears as cold as the West here, even this far north, but her fingers were still cold and she missed his company.

She tried not to think about the fact that she didn’t even know whether or not he was alive. 

When someone finally did find her, curled up against a snowy log on the outskirts of camp and still in her armor, it was Ryoma. She looked up into his face, finding genuine concern in his eyes, and was a bit surprised when he sat beside her - still also in his own armor - instead of asking her to come with him. She watched him as he stared out into the distance, the evening breeze rustling his hair as the mists Corrin still wasn’t used to signaling “night” began to rise around them. 

“Did we … make you cry?” he asked after a moment, his voice deep but quiet, and surprisingly delicate. 

She hesitated and then nodded, swallowing as she reached back to tug at her long braid, watching the way it caught the rays of light and held them. Sucking in a breath, she turned her face towards him and spoke, “I don’t feel like you’re my family. I… I know that you hate Nohr, I know that you have reasons. I know you care about me, but… To me this isn’t home.”

She didn’t know if it ever could be. 

He looked at her for a moment and then, hesitantly, reached out, placing a hand on top of her head. For a moment it simply sat there before he gently started stroking his hand over her hair, his eyebrows obviously furrowed even behind that ridiculous faceplate that made him look so angular and dangerous. 

Corrin watched as his lips parted, though they quickly closed again, his tongue darting out to lick them before he finally seemed resolved in his decision to speak. “I’m sorry,” he began. “This… Has been a long time coming for us. I remember when you used to follow me around and beg to ride on my shoulders, and at the time I took it for granted. All this time, we expected this joyful reunion, and here you are… Miserable. I’m afraid I haven’t been the best host. That I’ve forced the issue.” 

“You have,” she said, her voice more raw than she wanted it to be. “I believe you, Ryoma. I believe that you’re my blood family. You look at me like... “ she shook her head quickly, “you look at me like my family in Nohr does. Like you love me. You can’t fake that.” 

He sucked in a breath, as if an objection were on the tip of his tongue, but to his credit he let her continue. 

“I feel like you kidnapped me, like you took me away from the only life I’ve ever known, because you think you know what’s best for me and you think you understand what it was like to grow up in Nohr,” Corrin said in a rush. “And you’re probably right if you think it was horrible, because it was, no one ever tried to hide that from me, but people there are suffering and I want to help. That’s why I took up the blade.” 

“But now here I am,” she said, “and because of the Barrier, none of my family can find me. You’ve put me in a position where I have to leave behind the people I love or risk causing even more problems, in the long run,” she bowed her head and took a deep breath as she squeezed her eyes shut. “It’s not like I want to hurt you when you’ve been kind to me, but…” 

She couldn’t look at him, the lump in her throat close to bursting as she hugged her legs more tightly, shocked that he hadn’t removed his hand yet, though it had stilled on top of her head. Shivering, she waited for him to speak, barely daring to breathe in the interim. 

“I’m sorry,” he said again, his voice rough with an emotion Corrin couldn’t readily identity. “You’re right, of course. It was wrong to expect you to see it the same way we do, and I…” She heard Ryoma’s breath hiss through his teeth like a kettle letting off steam, “I don’t want you to feel like we’re forcing your hand. We want you to understand where we’re coming from. Corrin.”

Something in his voice prompted her to open her eyes and look up into his face, swallowing thickly at the concern she saw in his expression, her eyes watering as she thought about how… Different this felt than anything else she had ever experienced in her life. Corrin wasn’t really sure how to explain why it felt different but it … Did; it was as though there were no barriers of status or rank between them in that moment, as if he were just the man who wanted to be her brother, and she was herself. 

“I’m not asking for your immediate acceptance, just your patience,” Ryoma said, his hand falling to the side of her face. “Please, simply give us a chance.”

In spite of herself she felt reassured, and so she nodded, unable to speak past the lump in her throat. 

Smiling, he stood and offered her a hand, which she took. 

He hauled her effortlessly to her feet and then motioned for her to follow. Slowly, they made their way back through the camp and it made her wonder if perhaps Ryoma were deliberately giving her time to collect herself before she faced Hinoka and Sakura again for their “family chat”.

Eventually their meandering walk ended, and he held open the tent flap for her as she walked inside, Sakura and Hinoka’s quiet conversation ending the moment she arrived. Glancing briefly towards Ryoma, she bowed to them and then moved to sit down, crossing her legs in front of her as she stared at the table and waited for their conversation to start. 

“Hello K--” Hinoka began, quickly clearly her throat and starting over, “Corrin. I’m sorry. I’m still getting used to your Nohrian name.”

Blinking, Corrin looked up and smiled, nodding, “thank you,” she said, “for trying.”

Hinoka smiled in response, and then looked towards Ryoma, who was finally sitting down, directly across from Sakura. He looked grim, though his features softened slightly when he removed his faceplate and set it on the table before running his fingers through his hair. 

“You’ve seen the Faceless,” he began. “They’re abominations summoned by Nohrian Sorcerers to stalk across the borders, their way of attacking us when they can’t cross themselves. After all, cobbled together amalgams made from the bodies of the dead have no will of their own.”

“I’ve never heard of them,” she said firmly. “All the stories I’ve ever heard, all the battles I’ve ever studied, have never included anything like Faceless in them. I… I believe it’s possible to summon them,” she admitted, thinking about Iago and his greasy hair, shining in the light of the glowstones. Clenching her fists in her lap, she forced herself to look into Ryoma’s face, her chin held high, “but I’ve never heard of them being used in the battles on our side of the Spine.” 

“You wouldn’t need to use them on your side,” Hinoka said flatly. “They get used to get past Queen Mikoto’s Barrier, just like Ryoma said.”

“But--” Corrin started, feeling her brows furrow. “I saw the massacre. It was disgusting, horrible, it… It turned my stomach. They’re mindless monsters and…” she reached up, running her hand over her face, thinking about how they’d fought, how they’d just tried to rend her limb from limb, how upon leaving the army had left behind people to deal with the last rites of the deceased. “I can see how Hoshido has suffered in this war, but… But Hoshido still crosses the border.”

“In retaliation for the lives that were taken,” Ryoma said simply, as if that should provide all the answer she needed. 

Corrin couldn’t help but think that it was more complicated than that, but she couldn’t deny that Hoshidans were dying, and as much as she might not want to admit it… It looked like they were dying to Nohrian magic. She couldn’t help but wonder if Xander knew, if he had spared her the knowledge to protect her, just like Father’s barrier had been meant to protect her… Which she realized now must have really just been to mask her presence from Hoshidan detection. 

How much had she really been kept in the dark?

And did she really know anything about this war at all?

Taking a breath, she looked between Ryoma and Hinoka specifically, licking her lips in anticipation of her own words. 

“Please,” she began, “before we reach Shirasagi, tell me everything you know about the war.” 


End file.
